


The Second Verse

by Hinotima24



Series: This Love [2]
Category: Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Friendship/Love, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Triangle, Romance, Smut, Some Fluff, Soulmates, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 12:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 132,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinotima24/pseuds/Hinotima24
Summary: Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke; their story, from Season 2 of Game of Thrones onwards."Relationships as an actor are incredibly difficult" and it was. Neither of them knew if they would or could ever go back to how it had been but both knew one thing: no matter what happened, they would always love the other.Tossing, turning, struggle through the night with someone newAnd I could go on and on, on and onLantern, burning, flickered in my mind for only youBut you were still gone, gone, goneBeen losing grip, sinking shipsYou showed up just in time- Taylor Swift (This Love)





	1. Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relationships as an actor are incredibly difficult. With someone who's not an actor, because they never get to see you; and with someone who is an actor, because you're ships in the night a lot of the time. I mean, ideally, if you keep acting in the film world, you're a travelling salesman. And your options are: sacrifice a lot of your career, to make sure it's not unfair on the other person, or find someone who is willing to be your travelling circus.
> 
> \- Kit Harington (GQ magazine, 2015)

_September 19 th 2011, 9pm, Croatia.  _

**Emilia**

A shrill ringing of her phone broke the silence of her hotel room. Emilia startled, entirely removed from the tantalising pull of sleep. Instantly, she grabbed it from beside her on the pillow and picked up the call without a second thought and brought the phone to her ear. Her eyes were still bleary; from sleep or fatigue, Emilia did not know.

Filming in Croatia for season 2 of Thrones has begun yesterday and Emilia has flown out only the night before she was scheduled to film the next morning after spending the evening with Kit and leaving for the airport in the middle of the night. Needless to say, yesterday, she was worked to the bone from the wee hours of the morning till late evening and it was the same today. Emilia felt so tired it was almost unbelievable. She has dragged herself back to the hotel the moment filming ended, showered quickly and collapsed into bed. She has tried to ring Kit but he did not pick up and she has fallen asleep trying to leave him a text.

“Hello,” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

For a moment, there was no reply or sound over the other end of the line. Emilia was about to pull the phone from her ear to glance to see if she was indeed on a call when she heard, “Hey, Milly,” her heart skipped a beat and all traces of sleep left her mind, “did I wake you?” his voice, warm with concern, made her smile. Emilia sat up, hugging her knees through the duvet. As she parted her lips to tell him he did not, he continued, “and don’t try to lie to make me feel better, I know that voice. You sound like you’ve just woken up,”

Emilia giggled weakly but it shook her body nonetheless.

“There it is, that first giggle after you’ve woken-“

“Yes, you woke me up,” Emilia rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain her grin. He sighed but did not say anything in reply and Emilia felt a twinge of guilt for making him guilty; _even if he asked for it…_ “Kitten,” she said softly. _I miss you._

“Milly,” Kit replied cheekily. When she closed her eyes, she could see his mischievous grin, “I want to see you,” he said firmly; a playful demand.  

She grinned, “no,” she propped her chin on her knees, intent on teasing him after he did so, literally right after the first hello.

“Milly,” he whispered, “please,”

His breathy voice made her breath hitch in her throat, “no,” she replied.

“Milly…” his deep voice got louder despite the soft whisper and Emilia knew how close his lips were to the phone, “come on…”

Emilia bit her lip. She wanted to see his face so badly, “okay,” she said softly.

“I’ll call you!” Kit enthused and hung up immediately. Emilia blinked, lowering her phone, stunned before she chuckled; amused and pleased he was so eager. Not a moment later, her phone rang; a video call coming through with Kit’s unsmiling, grumpy face on the screen. Giggling, she picked it up. She gazed at the loading circle with a bated breath.

Eventually, he popped up on her screen, mildly aware of her own face at the corner of the screen. In the back of her mind, she knew she probably looked awfully pale and dishevelled from lying down before her hair dried. But at the sight of Kit, Emilia couldn’t find it in her to care.

The last time she saw him was after they have made love and she has had to leave for the airport to get to Croatia. They have spent the 24 days in Belfast, the first 24 days of the filming of season 2, sneaking to each other’s trailers between work. They saw so little of each other during the day, and were usually so knackered by the night, such that as soon as the trailer door shut, their bodies often meet, filled with lust and starved of the other. Breaks between filming has never been more fulfilling.

Kit’s damp thick black curly hair framed him lovely face. Under his moustache, his lips were curved into a smile. She watched it widen into a grin and unknowingly, she matched it with her own. His eyes weren’t looking directly at her and rather at the screen. It was dark so she couldn’t see the brown in his eyes but despite his smile, from his eyes, she could tell he looked tired.

She felt a pang in her chest and she spoke softly as did he, “ **you look tired** ,” they said in unison.

They both paused before bursting into laughter. Her heart sang as she witnessed his hearty laugh, “long day today?”

Kit shrugged nonchalantly and nodded, “the usual. We wrapped for the day around 7. I saw your call,” he smiled, “but I thought I’ll come back to the hotel before I called you. By the time I changed, left and came back to the hotel, it’s already 8…” he said. His eyes darted up as he thought, “it’s 9 over there, isn’t it?”

Emilia nodded, “I figured you were still filming when I called,” she smiled, “and yeah, 9,” she glanced to the time at the corner of her phone. Kit grinned. Then a thought came to her and she asked, “have you had dinner-“

She heard the vague sound of a doorbell, “just a minute, my darling,” Kit glanced up as he muttered. He then dropped the phone onto the bed. Emilia paused, smiling to herself at the endearment as she listened amusedly to sounds of Kit going about his hotel room doing God knows what.

It didn’t take a moment before Kit appeared once more; this time, sitting on the edge of the bed. He grinned at her.

“Who was that?” Emilia asked curiously.

Kit’s eyes twinkled as he slowly directed the camera down. She glimpsed that he was wearing a white t-shirt and shorts before she saw the food. He has called for room service. Emilia laughed, “do you remember that time we ordered room service for dinner?” he asked.

Emilia did, “like it happened yesterday,” she replied. Kit turned the camera back onto his face. He still had a silly grin on his face.

“Me too,” he said softly. Glancing down to his food, he said cheerily, “hope you don’t mind if I eat while we talk,” he placed the phone in front of him on the trolley.

“Of course not,” Emilia smirked, “not like I will do or say anything to make you to choke on your food,”

Kit did a double take and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her as he lowered his head and brought a fork of spaghetti to his mouth. He watched her all the while as he ate, convinced she would do something outrageous to make him choke. He looked determined not to be caught off guard when she did. Emilia burst into giggles at his paranoia and Kit smiled and he dropped the act, digging properly into his dinner.

For a moment, they were quiet as Kit ate while Emilia watched him with a smile. From time to time, Kit glanced to her and returned her smile, happiness glinting in his dark eyes, “Kitten, aren’t the rest of the cast having dinner?” she wondered.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded absently as he bit into his chicken, “they are, down in the restaurant-”

Emilia frowned, “you should have joined them,” _and he did not, for you._

Kit paused and looked at her, probably hearing her tone, “I’d much rather be here, eating room service while talking to you,” Kit replied simply.

“We can always talk after dinner,”

A furrow formed between his brows, “no we can’t, you would and should be asleep by then,” and of course, he was right. Emilia had to be out of bed by 5am and on set for hair and makeup by 5.30am, latest 6am, “you should probably be asleep now…” Kit muttered.

“I’ll be fine. I’m not tired,” she ignored his pointed look of doubt, “I just don’t want you to isolate yourself to talk to me, Kitten,” Emilia sighed, “be with the rest of the cast,”

Kit did not reply her for a moment as he ate but Emilia knew he heard her. Eventually, he said, “I’ll be fine,” he mimicked with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Emilia rolled her eyes. _He’s not even taking this seriously…_ and yet, she couldn’t help but smile at him. Kit returned the smile momentarily before he grew solemn, “I’m more than fine actually,” he said, gazing at her, “now that I can look at you and talk to you,”

A sweetness seeped into her at the way Kit said it and the adoring look in his eyes. Despite that, looking at Kit sitting in an empty hotel room, eating room service alone, she felt an ache. She knew Kit would very much like to be down in the restaurant with their mates and would probably have joined them at the bar, if not for her. Of course Emilia very much wanted this as well, to be able to talk to him before she turned in every night but this wasn’t only about her.

“Kit-” she sighed.

“Milly, I’ll see the cast on set and at lunch, it’s honestly no big deal,” Kit shrugged but Emilia could tell he only meant it partially. Hanging out after work was a big thing for them; if not at dinner then at the bar after. Kit has always enjoyed joking around with his mates after a long day of work while they filmed season 1; it helped him wind down like nothing else.

Emilia paused as she pondered, “okay why don’t we do this,” she straightened, folding her legs under her, “we’ll talk once every week-“

“What!” Kit swallowed a large bite, almost choking on his food, “No!” he objected, “you’d be swept away by some hot Croatian bloke by the middle of the week and totally forget you even have a boyfriend,”

Emilia laughed, “no I wouldn’t!” Kit looked at her doubtfully. She pressed her lips together and said, “you on the other hand would probably have chatted up some random girl at the bar and bring her back to your hotel room before the night of the first day ended,”

Kit scoffed, “yeah because I’d have my eye on a random bird at a bar when my girlfriend is pretty much the funniest, hottest and most beautiful woman in the world,”

“Arse kissing won’t get you anywhere, Kitten,” Emilia pursed her lips against a smile.

“I literally wish I could actually kiss your arse right now…” Kit muttered honestly.

She choked and burst into giggles.

A hint of a smile crossed his face. Kit reached over and picked up his phone. Bringing it closer to him, he lay back on the bed heavily with the phone over him. She glimpsed him bring his free hand to the screen of his phone, “I’d sooner buy an air ticket and take off to Croatia than chat up a random bird; you know that,”

His solemn tone gave her pause; he was no longer teasing and the sad longing was plain in every feature of his handsome face. Emilia hadn’t wished she could touch his face more than in that moment. She brushed the tips of her fingers over his cheek. It has only been 2 days since they were last together. They have three more months to go; about 92 days to be exact and Emilia was certain this aching emptiness would only get worse with each passing day.

She unsuccessfully swallowed against the lump in her throat as tears prickled her eyes, “I miss you too, Kitten,”

* * *

 

_October 1 st 2011, 10.30pm, Belfast.  _

**Kit**

He took a long drag of his cigarette and watched the smoke rise into the cool night air in front of him. In his hand, he held his phone. He has been sitting at his hotel room balcony for the past 15 minutes debating if he should still call her.

Since their last video call, they came to an agreement that Kit was to hang out with the cast after work if they decide to hang out. And if it happened to be a night they arranged to call, they would either postpone it or talk after his dinner. That arrangement went well the first two times and Kit has returned to his hotel room after dinner and even one or two drinks at the bar at 9; which translated to 10pm at Croatia. Both times, Emilia told him she was studying her script for her scenes the next day anyway but Kit could tell she was mostly waiting for him. It pleased and made him feel terribly guilty. They spoke for an hour each time before she went to bed.

But today, Kit has got caught up chatting with Alfie and Richard over drinks at the bar. He was having such a good time, he hadn’t noticed the time. By the time he went back to his room, it was 10pm, which meant it was 11 over at Croatia. Emilia usually got up at 5am and she should be asleep by now. Kit was torn when he had opened their chat and sent her a text.

**Sorry, I got caught up with Alf and Rich. Are you still awake?**

Kit stared at the text now. She neither replied nor came online. He supposed she must be asleep. Kit could always tell when she was up and waiting for him for it would take no more than 2 rings for her to pick up a phone call and less than 2 seconds for her to come online and reply his text then.

It made Kit love her even more than he already did. Emilia didn’t play the games that he heard girls often played. If she was waiting up for him, she wouldn’t intentionally let his call ring a moment longer so he wouldn’t know; although, she’d always deny she was waiting to assuage his guilt when he apologised for keeping her waiting. If she missed him, she was often too shy to say it but he could see it plainly on her face and hear it in the way she spoke to him and the way she’d drag out the phone call even if she was nodding off.   

Kit knew he should let her sleep but they have already postponed twice on this call and it has been almost a week since they last spoke. He missed her so much now it was tearing him up. He sighed and when the lit cigarette in his hand did nothing for him but make him feel worse for he told Emilia he would quit for her. Strangely, nicotine was useless against the longing ache in his chest and his anxiety about what to do. He knew each passing minute only pushed him to the inevitability of postponing this call again; something he very much didn’t want to do.

 _I miss you so fucking much…_ Kit glumly stubbed out his cigarette and scrolled up on their chat. It was, honestly, a pathetic conversation between them but it made him smile. It consisted of, literally, only their good mornings and good nights with loads of emojis from Emilia and an occasional, rare, photo from either of them; both of them not being big on taking pictures of themselves. She’s gotten less shy about it and began sending him plenty of hearts with her good mornings too and it always made him smile even if he felt at his worse while going to work.

 _Emilia…_ He glanced to her name to see she still wasn’t online. He glanced to the clock: 10.40pm. _Fuck it._

Kit hit the video call button. _We’ll talk for… 2 minutes. I just need to see your face…_

_One ring…_

_Second…_

_Third…._

_Fourth…_ Kit felt his stomach sink and he lowered the phone, dreading but mentally preparing himself to go to bed with that dull ache of longing.

 _Fifth._ His thumb hovered over the red button. He shouldn’t let it ring any longer and risk waking her from her sleep-

A black screen pop up with the familiar grey loading circle.

His heart leapt into his mouth and he held his breath.

“Kitten?” her voice hoarse, almost a whisper but it sounded beautiful to his ears.

He felt his face spread into a wide, almost aching, smile. Kit rose from his seat at the balcony. He absently closed the door behind him and sat on the tip of the bed; where he realised the Wi-Fi connection was the best. The picture loaded.

Emilia was lying on her side with half her face buried into the pillow. It was evident in her pale face, bleary eyes and tousled hair that she has been sleeping. Guilt crept into his chest but was overshadowed by the joy of seeing her. Kit felt a laugh bubble in his belly when Emilia stretched out and roll onto her back with the phone now above her.

He chuckled and fell back into bed with the phone held above him as well. He watched her, drawing shallow breaths as she rubbed sleep from her eyes with one hand with a small pout on her lips, “I’m sorry,” he blurted.

Emilia shook her head absently and Kit rolled onto his side, gazing at her. She was still rubbing her eyes.

Kit then realised her room was brightly lit; the lights were left on. _She fell asleep waiting for you._ A little voice in his head told him. “Milly,” he smiled.

She blinked, hard before her vision seemed to focus and Kit felt his heart might’ve stopped when a bright smile spread over her sleepy face as she saw him. If he could reach through the phone and cup her face, he would’ve; he would’ve kissed her all over too. Kit then saw the eyebags behind her smile and the heavy look in her eyes. She looked terribly knackered.

Guilt gnawed at Kit once the initial joy settled, “I’m sorry,” he said, “I was at the bar with Alf and Rich and I totally lost track of time…”

Emilia smiled, shaking her head, “it’s fine. I’m glad you had a good time and I wasn’t really waiting anyway, fell asleep,” she chuckled, “but you already knew that,” she teased, referring to how he clocked it immediately on their first video call.

Kit grinned, “of course,” he glanced to the time. 10.45pm, “we’ll talk for….15 minutes alright?”

She pouted and it tugged at his heartstrings and made him smile.

Before she could throw in one of her whines and topple his resolve, Kit said, “it’s really late… I’m so sorry, Milly,”

Emilia paused before she nodded reluctantly. She rolled onto her side, burying half her face into her pillow. _So beautiful…_ “how has work been?” she asked.

Knowing they were short on time, as usual, Kit began relating the highlights of his past few days; past week seeing as they haven’t spoken for about a week. He chuckled when Emilia giggled at his story about him tripping on a take. Encouraged, he told her about their after work shenanigans as he tugged aside the duvet and lay down for bed. As Kit lay down and look at his phone, he paused.

Emilia was fast asleep.

Kit chuckled, glancing at the time: 11.27pm. He raised his brows. He has spoken for almost 45 minutes. He knew he loved attention but he never thought he could be so chatty and about himself. Kit would normally tap out of talking after 10 minutes of talking about himself with friends, feeling too self-conscious or embarrassed with himself to continue. This time, he has enjoyed telling her about his week so much he hasn’t realised the time. It was evident to him then that with Emilia, Kit didn’t mind himself and almost enjoyed himself in a way and he realised that only came with self-love. He was so busy loving her and he hadn’t realised he loved himself more than he did before.

In awe, he rolled onto his side, gazing at her face as she slept. _How have you done this for me without even me realising it?_

“Good night my darling Milly,” he whispered. He turned out the lights on his end to realise Emilia’s room was still brightly lit. Kit chuckled, shaking his head as he gazed at her. She was sleeping soundly despite how bright her room was.

He smiled sleepily as she shifted in her sleep to snuggle her face deeper into the soft pillow. Kit could almost smell the scent of lavender. He gazed at her, a small smile on his lips, until his eyelids got too heavy and he succumbed to sleep eventually.

* * *

 

_October 22 nd 2011, 3am, Croatia.  _

**Emilia**

_“Milly…” he moaned deeply. His lips so close to her ear she could feel his warm breath on her ear and neck. Her skin exploded with goosebumps and she took in a sharp breath, “Milly,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple before she felt the tip of his tongue, warm and wet, dart out and sneak a taste of the spot he kissed. His deep sigh of bliss and desire made the spot between her legs ache terribly._

_“Kitten,” she said impatiently, her fingers digging into his arm as her legs from around his hips tightened. She could feel his hardness brush up against her wet core as she pulled him down to her. They groaned in unison but he was obviously restraining himself, keeping himself just an inch from her, “Kit-“ he ducked his head and sucked, hard, on the flesh of her breast. She gasped, sure it would leave a mark. She combed her fingers into his long curly hair, encouraging him. As his soft lips encompass a hard nipple, she moaned, arching her back into his teasing tongue._

_He hummed and she felt him gently coax her legs to release his hips. Thinking he’ll get on with it, she did. The kisses he peppered over her breasts were feather light before alternating to hard, stinging nips. All the while, his tongue would dart over her skin every now and then as he kissed a path lower. A fire was lit low in her abdomen and she squirmed, trying to ease the searing desire to be touched and filled which she knew he could easily fulfil both, very well._

_“Fucking hell,” she cussed as she felt his lips on her mould and all over her hips. Gripping his arms, she tugged him up to her, eager for him to fill her. She already glimpsed how hard he was when she glanced down while he kissed her abdomen. He resisted, pulling his arm from her grasp. Instead, he slipped both hands under her bottom and squeezed her firmly. She made to gasp but instead, shrieked, her body jolting in sheer surprise when she felt his tongue lap up her wetness firmly, “KIT!” she gasped, pulling her thrown back head back to gaze down at him._

_With his mouth over her mould, she felt his chuckles send reverberations into her swollen bundle of nerves and she moaned loudly. It evoked another rush of wetness that she could feel drip out of her and he instantly lapped it up, his eyes fixed on hers. Starburst exploded into the back of her eyelids with every firm lick of his tongue. She would’ve screamed if she wasn’t sure their entire cast would hear her in the rooms down the corridor. Instead, she bit her lips, peering down at him, “you taste so good,” he told her, his voice hoarse._

_He coaxed her thighs over his shoulders, pulling her closer to his mouth and she scooted to him, too eagerly. He stroked her thighs gently as his tongue teased her. She was panting, her body trembling with plea for a release by the time he plundered her wet entrance with his tongue repeatedly. She moaned, her fingers fisting his hair unwittingly, “Kit…” she whimpered, “please…”_

_She met his eye over her mould only to throw her head back into the pillow as he kissed her once over her folds before proceeding up to suck on the nub on the tip. She bucked unwittingly, shifting. His arm circled her leg, holding her in place and with his other hand, he dipped a finger into her, curling it tentatively. All the while, his tongue teased and his lips sucked on her nub. A bolt of pleasure shot through her, making her twitch sharply in anticipation for her release. With his eyes fixed on her, she felt him slowly slip another finger into her, filling her._

_She sighed happily, combing her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. He pulled his fingers out before thrusting them back in; slow at first before quickening in time with her shallow breaths. His tongue flicked over her nub and folds all the while, lapping up any stray moisture. Her abdomen tightened, telling of her impending release, “Kitten,” she moaned. Her legs were beginning to shake uncontrollably and one of her trembling hand fisted his hair, the other in the sheets-_

Emilia woke suddenly in darkness. Her chest was heaving as she gasped for breath. Her body was shaking and she was immediately aware of her soaked knickers and throbbing cunt. Her legs were pressed together and she rubbed them together firmly, moaning softly at the friction she felt, “fuck,” she whispered into the empty, dark hotel room.

Feeling unbearably hot, she pushed aside the duvet. Her camisole was wet and clinging uncomfortably on her body. Her face felt clammy against the pillow. She turned onto her side and reached for her phone from the bedside table.

3:15am.

The bright light glared at her, as if mocking her. She needed to get up in less than 2 hours.

“The fuck’s wrong with you, Clarke,” she whispered as she rolled onto her back. That dream was so vivid and she knew why; she was dreaming of something that actually happened, on the night she was supposed to fly out to Croatia. It was their last night together for almost a month and a half now.

She has gotten aroused before and with her boyfriend minimally 4 hours and 400 pounds away, she usually took care of it quickly by herself. Emilia supposed this dream was the culmination of her abstinence from sex after a good six months of being _very_ sexually active and missing Kit terribly. Putting her phone away, she reached a trembling hand down her pants and tentatively touched herself.

She hissed as she felt how wet and engorged she was. For a moment, she was so sensitive she both throbbed to be touched and couldn’t bear to be. Letting herself adjust, eventually, she stroked herself languidly. But no matter what Emilia did, she was unable to find her release, always falling short. The throbbing desire did not abate or alleviate in the slightest. If anything, her trembling, clumsy touch made it worse.

Emilia huffed and kicked off her knickers entirely; which has been lowered in her failed attempt. Wiping her hand on a tissue from the bedside table, she closed her eyes to sleep but every time she closed her eyes, she would see Kit’s dark eyes gazing at her and they reflected the burning desire she felt for him. If anything, that image made her wetter and the ache grew. The more she tried to sleep, the more the wet spot between her legs throbbed.

She was tired but her body wouldn’t let her sleep. As she thought about how she’d screw up so badly tomorrow at work, which always happened when she didn’t sleep well and wouldn’t be able to remember her lines, it became hard to breathe. It was like there was a gigantic rock on her chest, crushing her. Tears stung her eyes and she buried her face into her pillow.  

Emilia half-expected and longed for the feel of a pair of strong, familiar arms around her then, and soft tender kisses that she knew could soothe her worries and anxiety in a heartbeat. She missed him so much every time she thought of him it tore her up a little bit more inside. Today, she missed him particularly and Emilia has been dreading this for weeks.

22nd October.

It was the day Kit first told her he was falling in love with her, the first day she seriously entertained the thought of him as more than a friend, and it’s the day they shared their first kiss. Wondering if Kit would remember and how, even if he did, they would spend this day and her birthday apart, she felt hot tears leave her eyes and seeped into her pillow.

Filming in an area that they only rented and did not own, the schedule for filming was incredibly tight and the producers were insistent on completing filming on time, if not earlier. So, with a heartfelt and sympathetic apology, Emilia found herself scheduled to film for 12 hours on her birthday. She supposed she was lucky to be doing what she loved and shouldn’t be a brat about wanting a break just because it’s her birthday. It’s just any other day. _Idiot._

When Kit hinted how he could have a day and 400 pounds to spare on her birthday, Emilia had been thrilled; that she’ll see him again and spend her birthday with him. But then recalling her schedule, she immediately told him not to bother. She watched the smile fade from his face entirely as he heard of how she will work the whole day on her birthday and would probably be too tired by the time she returned to the hotel. Kit went on an angry, amusing rant regarding David and Dan and likening them to the Nazis and as she knew he intended, she giggled, feeling better already.

He made her happy, there was no doubt. But as she thought of him now, only nostalgia and painful longing fill her. Happiness seemed miles away; a thing of the past. The pain was almost overwhelming, strangling her as she lay alone in her dark hotel room. Emilia swallowed a sob, tugging the duvet over and muffling her subsequent sobs. As his face swam into her mind, she only sobbed harder, curling up.

 _Emilia Clarke, stop it._ She sniffed. _You’ll ruin everything, you still have to film in less than 2 hours. How will you film if you turned up with red puffy eyes?_ Trying to stifle her tears, she bit her trembling lip angrily, wiping at her eyes. _Don’t cry…_ a sob tore from her lips regardless.

* * *

 

_October 23 rd 2011, 8pm, Belfast.  _

**Kit**

Something was horribly wrong. He frowned as he checked his Wi-Fi connection and his network signal to find that both were working perfectly. He opened up his chat with Emilia to see that his ‘good morning’ and ‘happy birthday’ have been promptly left unanswered. He sent both first thing in the morning at 5am, expecting an instant and enthusiastic reply since at 6am in Croatia, she wouldn’t have begun filming yet; probably in the make-up chair. But there was none, until now, at 8pm.

He hasn’t heard from Emilia. This scene was only too familiar for Kit with the only issue being he has never actually experienced this with Emilia. With his previous relationship, he has been ignored numerous times for pissing his girlfriend off without realising it. But he has never angered Emilia, or rather, she has never gotten really angry at him to this extent. Kit didn’t know if what he learned about girls from his exes applied to her. Regardless, at lost, this was the only explanation Kit could come up with regarding Emilia’s current behaviour.

With nothing else to go on, Kit begun pacing his hotel room as he pondered. _Was she angry I didn’t fly over to look for her on today?_ Emilia has told him not to waste his money on the flight when she wouldn’t be able to even talk to him the whole day for she’ll be filming. _Sometimes, girls say what they don’t mean._ A little voice said, _you knew better than to take her word for it._ Kit sighed in exasperation, mussing his hair. _God, you’re so fucking stupid, Harington. Of course Emilia would want you there for her birthday. She’s just too sweet to let you spend the money and wait for her the whole day._

But as he sank into the couch, Kit felt in his gut that this wasn’t it. It wasn’t like Emilia to tell him to do something then get angry when he went with her wishes. She’ll probably be sad but Kit felt she wouldn’t give him the cold shoulder because of it. She would know she was the one who told him not to. _Wouldn’t she?_

Kit massaged the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache coming on. Glancing down at his phone to see she still hasn’t replied him, Kit looked out the window to see that it was already dark; the sun has set-

 _Oh fuck._ Kit shot to his feet and opened the balcony door, stepping out into the cool night air. _You’re fucking thick aren’t you, Harington?_

_How could you FORGET this?!_

“FUCK!” Kit shouted as he fisted his hair. Finding himself praying Emilia was too busy to fly back to Belfast yesterday, Kit frantically unlocked his phone and quickly texted Emilia.

**Shit.**

**Milly, please forgive me.**

**I genuinely didn’t think we’d celebrate yesterday**

**No.**

**Wait!**

**I mean it is important and that day will always be special to me and definitely worth celebrating.**

**But I thought we would celebrate Boxing Day instead; when I actually asked you properly**

**Milly, please… I’m so sorry.**

**Milly. Please don’t ignore me.**

**Please tell me you didn’t fly over here yesterday and were at Cavehill…**

Kit stared, panting, at the long line of messages he just sent. He stared at her name, willing for the words: _online_ to appear underneath it. A seconds ticked by and nothing. Kit growled in frustration and tossed his phone onto the table of the balcony. It landed with a loud clank and Kit leaned against the railing. Crying out, angry at himself, he slapped the railings. Instantly, his hands burned with pain but he ignored them and sank into the seat beside the table.

His heart was beating a mile a minute. Feeling helpless, Kit buried his face into his hands. Suddenly, a notification came through. Kit shot up from his chair and picked up the phone. _Emilia._

He hurriedly unlocked his phone and opened her message.

**Don’t be silly, I didn’t.**

A huge breath of relief left Kit and he walked absently back into his hotel room to pace, it was getting chilly. All the while, he watched Emilia type, waiting for her text.

**And yes, I figured you’ve forgotten.**

**Was hoping you wouldn’t.**

His stomach sank.

**:(**

**But you’re right….I mean how many anniversaries are we going to have in a year…**

Kit felt his lungs resume breathing.

**Boxing Day it is.**

**And thank you for your birthday message!!**

Kit smiled and typed: **Next year, we’ll go to Cavehill and watch that sunset together.**

Emilia replied: **IF our filming schedule permits.**

He chuckled: **IF we even have filming going on…**

Her reply was instant: **Touchwood!**

Kit laughed before he asked. **Were you really mad at me?**

He waited, watching her type.

**A little.**

**But I guessed it that you were looking to celebrate on Boxing Day but…**

Kit chuckled. He could hear her conflict all the way here in Belfast, from Croatia. He typed: **it’s special.** He sent it.

 **It’s special :(** Emilia sent too.

Kit laughed, missing her giggle. He quickly punched in the next message: **of course it is. Opened the doors to kissing you. Honestly changed my life.**

She sent an emoji: 

Kit grinned. But it faded and he asked: **You were mad at me enough to ignore me the whole day though…**

Emilia replied. **Well, not really. Just that moment in the make-up chair. After, I was too busy to check my phone or think about it.**

 **If I wasn’t busy…probably would’ve replied you in under an hour…** Kit smiled.

 **Or less…** _Now that’s the Emilia I know. Always impatient even if she was trying to play it cool and give me the cold shoulder..._

Kit grinned and texted: **facetime?**

**Yes please**

**I’ll call you**

Kit chuckled and closed the chat, waiting. As he thought back, Kit realised how horrible he must seem to her. He had forgotten the day they had their first kiss and left Emilia probably waiting for a call, at least. They haven’t facetimed in 4 days and Kit hasn’t thought to call her yesterday, intending to call her today, on her birthday. _I really fucking did that to her; the person I love with all my heart-_

Her call came through and Kit instantly picked up. He sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled in anticipation. It has been a month and a half since their “video-call” relationship began and every time he called her, nothing changed. Watching the screen load made his heart beat fast and his stomach flipped a couple of times as he waited that few seconds more to finally see her face again.

When she came through, Emilia looked tired; more than usual. She was smiling but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Eager to remedy that, Kit grinned and said, “happy belated first-kiss day, my love,”

Emilia giggled, her eyes disappearing behind her bunched up, reddening cheeks. Kit chuckled happily, “happy belated first-kiss day, Kitten,” she grinned and enthused.

“Alright, c’mere, give me a kiss,” Kit leaned towards the phone.

She laughed, “no! I am not going to kiss my phone,”

Kit narrowed his eye, “no, you’re going to kiss _me_ ,” she pursed her lips unsuccessfully against a smile, “c’mon. I know you want to,”

Emilia giggled as she leaned forward, obligingly, to kiss him. Kit grinned, hearing her kiss as he pressed a kiss to the screen. She giggled uncontrollably and pulled away.

“Hey come back, I’m not done,” he laughed, kissing the screen again and making her giggle. Pulling away, he smiled as he saw that she was curled up on the bed, holding her stomach in mirth, “happy birthday, Milly,” Kit waited patiently for her to try and fail to quell her giggles.

When she finally did, Emilia smiled. Biting her lip, she replied, “thank you,” his eyes darted down to her lips and Kit felt a lump form in his throat. It was evident to him then he missed her in more ways than one. His heart missed her terribly and his body only missed her more.

“About your present…it’s not ready yet… it’s actually on hold but it’s coming,” Kit said. He had a pretty good idea of what he was going to get her. It was going to be _big_ and it was his way; the crazy thing he’d do for love. _This love in particular..._ In fact, Kit was slightly afraid she’ll turn it down because of how ridiculous it was but he was pretty determined about it. He had already made arrangement to go down to get it during his upcoming week long break before Iceland, and give it to Emilia.

“Really?” Emilia raised a brow, looking rightfully a little afraid. _Damn she does know me well,_ “nothing too extravagant, Kitten,” she warned. _Fuck._

“Nothing you don’t deserve,” he corrected.

“No, I won’t accept something too expensive,” she stated firmly, “it’s the thought that counts,”

Kit has honestly never had a girl worry about his finances like Emilia does but she was right. They weren’t earning a lot from Thrones and depending on how season 2 went, they might both be booted into the camp of jobless actors after this December. It was only right that he saved up what he earned for the uncertain future of an actor. _Trust her to be the rational one between the two of us._

A part of Kit hated this. He knew if they was loaded, he’ll fly over every chance he got to meet her and she’ll do the same. It’ll be so much easier in a way. But they both weren’t and they were young people who should rightfully be saving for the future. At that thought, Kit teased Emilia then, “what? Worried we won’t be able to feed our babies?”

Emilia paused, blinking; evidently surprised. He glimpsed a smile on her lips but it was gone in an instant and she folded her lips before retorting, “talk about jumping the gun, Harington,”

He was disappointed she didn’t seem as excited at the prospect he was suggesting but didn’t let it show. He told her instead, “anyway… there’s a lot of thought into that so you’ll love the present, I know it,” _if you can look past the price and how huge a birthday present it will be…_

Thankfully, she smiled and nodded. She bit her lips then and Kit knew something was on her mind and she was hesitating. He watched her shift a little. It always amused Kit how he could basically read her from her facial expression. He suppress a chuckle as he clocked the exact time she plucked up the courage and decided to say what was on her mind, “I want a present. Today,”

Kit chuckled. She rarely asked for anything, always giving. He was only too happy to oblige, “anything,”

“Anything?” she raised a brow, a small smirk on her lips.

The sight of her smirk made him hesitate but Kit did not want to look a coward after seeming so confident and he felt pretty sure he could rise up to any challenge. _Let’s see what you can come up with, Clarke_ , “yes,” he told her firmly.

Emilia smirked, still biting her lower lip and his eyes were unwittingly drawn to it, “touch yourself for me,”

His eyes bugged and he stared blankly at her. Eventually, he managed, “seriously?” he asked, even if her words in itself made his blood rush down.

“Yes,” she nodded. Her large blue-gold eyes made her look almost innocent. But Kit knew she was anything but; his mind pulling up images of her bent over for him, clutching the sink in the loo. Owing to both the knowledge of her filthy mind and the vivid image, his pants were becoming all too tight all too soon; it was almost embarrassing. _It has been a while…_

“Milly…” he pursed his lips, trying not to smile or chuckle. He didn’t want to start doing this only to realise she was only teasing and because of his horny mind and starved body, he has taken her too seriously.

She raised her brows and nodded her chin to him in prompt. _God, she’s fucking serious._ Kit couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or cry but Emilia robbed him of that thought when she leaned back onto the headboard of her bed. Kit knew for a fact that she’ll be holding the phone with one hand and the other hand would be anything but idle. He swallowed a groan at the thought and image, now forming, of her touching herself where he wanted, so badly, to taste.

Kit rose from the edge of the bed and held the phone with one hand while he tugged off his shirt with the other. Emilia watched him unblinkingly, a small smile on her lovely face. Mirroring her smile, he unbuckled his belt and jeans. Glancing see her still watching him attentively, with a small smile, Kit shook his head in almost disbelief, “I feel like I’m filming porn,”

Emilia laughed, “pretty much. Could an option, if this acting thing doesn’t work out,” she smirked.

Kit chuckled in amusement. _I love you._ “Why?” he asked, “am I turning you on?” Emilia did not reply but merely stare at him, pressing her lips together firmly against a giggle. Her silence was telling enough. He grinned, pleased. As he unbuttoned his jeans, unzipping the fly, he tugged it down but was unable to with just one hand; it was too tight, _shit._ “Just a moment,” he placed the phone down on the bed with the camera facing the ceiling as he struggled out of his jeans, grunting.

Emilia giggled, “your jeans are way too tight, Kitten. You’ll cut off circulation,”

Kit rolled his eyes as he tossed his jeans aside. She knew him only _too_ well. Picking his phone up, he told her, “don’t worry, my circulation is just fine,” he smirked. Glancing down deliberately to the growing bulge in his pants, he added, “evidently,”

Her smile faded and she sighed softly, almost a groan. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back into the headboard. She looked so beautiful in that moment, Kit was instantly captivated. Unwittingly, his hand began groping the hard, warm throbbing flesh through his pants, “ _Kitten_ ,” she whimpered. The look in her eyes as she opened them to gaze at him, the tone of her voice and the squeeze of his own palm almost made him cum.

His breathing quickened, becoming shallow as he dipped his hand into his pants and drew his hard length from it. He pushed down his pants, kicking it aside as it fell to his ankles. Gripping himself firmly, Kit could not take his eyes off Emilia. He could hear her light pants over the phone. As she licked her lips, moistening it just so he could see the wet glean on her lip, he felt fluid leak from the tip of his member. Kit groaned, “I want to kiss you so bad…”

Emilia chuckled breathily, “I hope you don’t mean just my lips,”

 _God… this amazing woman …_ “No,” he growled, swallowing a moan as Emilia’s moist lips parted in evident pleasure, her eyes slipping shut. He wished so much it was him who caused her to be such that Kit felt a flash of anger, “not just your lips…” his thumb brushed over her parted lips, “I want to feel…” he whispered, “and _taste_ just how wet you are; just how wet you have gotten for me,” Emilia moaned softly and Kit felt himself twitch in his hand, “I want to feel your skin under my hand and your body under mine; I want to feel how soft, warm and wet you are around my cock-“ she arched her back, throwing her head back against the headboard of the bed with a thump. Feeling himself getting harder, if even possible, he began stroking himself quickly, “I want to feel you tremble around me as you cum for me,”

She moaned, “ _Kit_ ,” he watched her lovely face contort in almost pain and _knew_ she was cumming. Kit felt almost physical agony from the frustration that he wasn’t there; to bring her to her release, hold her as she reached it, to kiss her as she came down from it, to reassure her in her moment of sheer vulnerability. Angrily, he stroked himself. He squeezed his eyes shut as the tightness in his abdomen snapped and Kit felt his balls tightened as he spilled over his abdomen. He groaned as the last wave ebbed away.

His eyes instantly sought her out. Her head still tilted back against the headboard, she looked down to him; spent. But she wasn’t smiling as she normally would be. Kit knew something wasn’t right for he felt it too. His body was satiated but his heart wasn’t; far from it. The pleasure his body felt has always meant little to him; paling in comparison to the pleasure he brought to hers but now, both seem to mean nothing to either of them.

Kit felt cold. He methodologically reached for some tissues and wiped his release from his abdomen before he tugged the duvet over his bare body. As he expected, the duvet did nothing for the cold that bit into his skin and sank into his bones. Emilia hasn’t moved from her position against the headboard, just gazing unsmiling at him; a sad, almost pained look in her eyes. He forced a smile at her, praying that he could coax a smile to her face but he couldn’t. _I love you so much._ His thumb brushed her jaw. If he closed his eyes, Kit knew he would be able to feel the soft, warm alabaster skin under his finger; it always felt so vivid in his dreams.

 _I love you._ Kit pressed a gentle kiss over her cheek, wishing with all his heart that she could feel it, “I’m here, Milly…” he whispered weakly, hating how his words sounded; so meaningless, “I’ve got you…” he kissed her again.

As he pulled away, his heart wrenched painfully to see a tear fall from her eye, rolling down her flushed cheek. And her next words, so soft he almost didn’t hear, and the look on her eyes as she said them ripped agonisingly into him. It struck him straight in his chest and haunted him even as he huddled down to sleep that night.

“Do you?”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those bravehearts who decided to persevere with me and Kimilia through this next (extremely difficult and agonising) part, THANK YOU! Hope I don't disappoint you guys or lose you guys somewhere along the angsty journey. Onward! :)
> 
> First chapter, let me know what you think about it! 
> 
> P.S. for those who noticed/ are worried about the rape/non-con... it'll be implied rather than explicitly described and I would say it's with regard to how this industry is.  
> P.P.S. And to those who are waiting for an update on the Jonerys story... it's coming but for some reason I'm having a pretty bad writer's block on that: I'm pretty determined to have it up soon though so we'll see!


	2. Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think in the early days I second-guessed everyone.  
> \- Emilia Clarke (US Harper’s Bazaar, 2017) 
> 
> I kept thinking that for clarity of mind, I had to be in one place. Then I realised that's not how this life is going to work. It makes romance absolutely impossible.  
> \- Emilia Clarke (the Sun, 2016)

_November 19 th 2011, 12am, Croatia._

**Emilia**

Her eyes traced the now familiar pattern on the ceiling of her hotel room; the complicated swirls that slowly faded into individual strands to the corner of the room.

He hasn’t called her, as he had promised to, a week and a half ago; the last time they spoke.

Today, Emilia has had a terrible day filming. She has been botching her lines more than usual throughout the day. She was extremely frustrated with herself but everyone was kind. They all looked sympathetically at her, assuming she was tired from the last two months of intense filming where she has been under immense stress and suffered from an extreme lack of sleep. And Emilia was but she knew she has always been tougher than that and her drama school prepared her well in that regard.

The confusion as to what was happening only served to frustrate her even more. The moment she wrapped for the day, Emilia has promptly returned to her hotel room, shutting the door to all the embarrassment and sting on her professional pride as an actor. The only thing that comforted her was that she would finally be able to talk to Kit again tonight and she could probably tell him what happened and ask for some advice. He always knew what was wrong, _with me especially_ , both owing to his talent as an actor and his understanding of her.

_Kit._

Their relationship was different now. Not in their love for the other; that’s not it at all. If anything, the distance made Emilia realise how thoroughly she has fallen in love with him. But there was no denying something has changed.

They both could feel it, ever since the call on her birthday. When they found their release from the other, if in a strangely impersonal manner, Emilia has felt oddly empty in a moment that should fill her with a safe, sweet warmth. That feeling was only further hollowed out with the agony of longing. She longed to see him, to touch him, to kiss him, to make love to him. After her heart slowed and she came down from her release, she realised he has watched her get herself off. Emilia’s face had burned with a shame then that she hadn’t felt around Kit in a long time. She had hastily excused herself and hung up the call. Kit’s face fell and her heart broke but Emilia could not stand to look at him another second more. She could feel tears stinging her eyes and she didn’t want to cry in front of him.

Hanging up didn’t make the shame go away but it did worsen her longing of him and bring about waves of sadness that she restlessly fell asleep to.

On their next call, on 1st November, Emilia found herself both looking forward to and dreading the call. Such feelings have seeped into her slowly, over time and almost unknowingly. She has shook it off then and called Kit. It was the same. The moment she saw him every ache of longing and sadness fell away and she only saw him. He made her laugh when Emilia thought even smiling was too difficult. But as it always did, the time for goodbyes and ‘see you soon’ came and it only drove the knife deeper.

It now hurt her to be intimate with him. _We are so close and yet, not at all._ When they tried, to be intimate, It did nothing for her pain of being apart from him but worsen it. Emilia would rest her forehead against his to feel only the hard surface of her phone. She kissed him only to feel the biting coldness against her lips. All the while, her heart ached, unfulfilled and she missed him more.

Now, as she waited for him, apart from looking forward to the call, Emilia had a very good reason to dread it.

Today, the filming in Belfast would wrap for Season 2 and Kit would have a week long break before proceeding to Iceland to film his remaining scenes. It was supposed to be a good thing, for Kit had teased that he knew exactly how he wanted to spend his break, repeatedly mentioning his interest in visiting a certain Eastern European country for a week. And on top of that, Emilia has been given a week break as well; both for the cast and crew who have been working tirelessly for 2 whole months. The thought of them touring Croatia together thrilled her; between work and chatting with Kit, Emilia herself barely had the time to see the beautiful country.

But a call from her agent, Michael, last week changed it drastically. He thought he came bearing good news but Emilia’s stomach has sank and the feeling left her feeling extremely conflicted. He has managed to find a few upcoming movies for her to audition for over her week break. Producers of some of these movies have even sent him the script for her to have a read and come down for an audition if it interest her; having watched her in Season 1 of Thrones and liked it.

She could possibly be working after filming Thrones. For any actor, it was wonderful news. Not only was her career finally picking up for real, her agent has also been an absolute dear and painstakingly arranged it to fit her hectic filming schedule for Season 2 of Thrones. But the excitement entirely escaped Emilia, especially when Michael told her the auditions would be in Los Angeles; which again, should bode well for a young actor for it meant a possible break into Hollywood and it will span over a week, starting from 19th with a mix of individual auditions as well as some scheduled chemistry reads.

_Good news for any actor but me; in this place, time and position._

There was no question that Emilia wanted this but she wanted Kit as well. _You can’t have it both ways._ A little voice told her. She has pondered over it for a day and briefly, and accidentally, mentioned it to Lena, whom she had lunch with. Lena knew she was with Kit, and _bless her,_ she never blatantly mention it. Lena has caught up with what the problem was the moment Emilia mentioned auditions in LA during the upcoming break. Lena had told her Kit would understand but Emilia wasn’t so sure.

They have been over this; over the holidays. And Kit’s stance has been clear; he wanted the best for her and her career but it was after a small fallout and because they have spent about a month apart... now, they were apart for longer and Emilia was not so sure she’d have his blessing this time. Even if she did, Emilia wasn’t sure if she wanted his blessing; knowing how difficult it would be on both of them. She told Michael to give her time to think about it and promised to get back to him on the 18th; resolving to ask Kit about it. Inwardly, she knew she would give this up; the auditions, if Kit wanted her to.

Emilia glanced at the clock. 00:23am.

She picked up her phone from beside her head to see that Kit has neither read nor replied her message: **I’m back at the hotel.**

It was their usual message to let the other know that they are available to FaceTime and she has sent it at 8pm; Croatian time, meaning 7pm at Belfast. It was now 11.30pm over there and Kit was nowhere to be found.

Rationally, she knew he was probably at dinner and having drinks with the cast. _As you told him to…_ a voice sneered at her. It wasn’t the first time he has lost track of time. He has done so only once before. But at that time, he has called her at 10.30, apologising profusely. It’s much later now and Emilia knew in the back of her mind Kit has probably forgotten completely and was in bed by now.

_He’s forgetting about you._

Emilia frowned, feeling tears sting her eyes at that thought as she gazed down at their chat.

_Don’t be silly. He loves you._

With that thought giving her courage to take an unconventional step, as a girl, Emilia sat up from the bed. She clicked on his name in the call log. If he wasn’t going to call her, she’d simply call him and tell him she missed him if he has completely forgotten they were supposed to talk today. _No need to rub it in his face and make him feel bad for having forgotten… it’ll only make me feel horrible when I see his guilt and hear his apology._

The phone rang for a long time with no answer. Emilia let it ring till it stopped.

 _He’s probably asleep._ Emilia thought and she considered letting him sleep but she needed to talk to him about her auditions. Seeing as filming has ended and Kit could simply sleep in the next day if she worn him out by keeping him up, Emilia dialled again.

Still no answer.

Panic bloomed in her chest then as the thought of something bad happening to Kit came to her. The last she heard from him was this morning; their usual ‘Good morning’ to the other, spiced up with emoji to represent what each of them felt that morning. Kit has sent her a happy one this morning… _What if something happened to him while they were filming?_ The idea made her stomach sink and Emilia almost hung up to call David or Dan.

Someone picked up.

Emilia was instantly hit with a blast of loud music. She cringed, turning the volume down, “Kit-“

“Hello?” she froze and almost dropped her phone.

It was a woman’s voice.

_He loves you._

_His phone is obviously at a party or a club of sorts. Not a bedroom._ Emilia blinked and replied, “Um, hello. May I speak to Kit please?” she pulled her phone away from her ear momentarily to glance at her screen and confirmed she indeed phoned Kit and not some random number.

“What?” the person yelled on the opposite end, obviously unable to hear her over the loud music. Emilia repeated what she has said louder, “Wow, no need to yell-“ Emilia rolled her eyes. This woman was obviously drunk or high, “he popped into the loo, who is this?” she felt a breath of relief leave her. _He’s fine. Kit’s fine._

Then she tensed at what this woman picking up his phone could mean.

_He wouldn’t… he loves me._

_I’d sooner buy an air ticket and take off to Croatia than chat up a random bird; you know that._ Emilia could still hear Kit saying it to her seemingly a lifetime ago.

“Um…” _his girlfriend._ Emilia hesitated and said eventually, “Emilia,”

“Who?!” the woman shouted.

“Emilia,” Emilia said firmly, raising her voice a little.

“Emilia who-“ she asked but she was cut off abruptly and Emilia heard sounds of the phone being handled and brushed over the speaker before-

“Milly?” his voice was strangely hushed despite his surroundings.

“Kitten,” she smiled at the sound of his voice.

“Give me a minute,” he said, a little louder. She heard some murmurs of ‘cuse me and some movement before the music died down in the background and disappeared entirely, “Hey…” he came back on, “Milly what-“ he paused and Emilia could practically hear the cogs turn in his head, “FUCK!”

She winced at how loud he has cursed and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m so sorry, Mils! David and Dan threw a wrap party-“ _of course they did…_ Emilia realised on hindsight. They have had one for season 1 when they wrapped filming the entire season but that was because they were only shooting mostly on one location. Emilia did remember David and Dan mentioning in passing that they intended to throw one when the filming in Northern Ireland wrapped, “I didn’t want to go but they badgered me. Please don’t be mad!”

“I get it, Kitten,” she chuckled, “I’m not mad or anything, don’t worry,” _not mad at all…_ Emilia could still remember the sharp ache she felt when she guessed he had forgotten her; which he did…

She could literally hear a breath of relief leave him before he cried, “I’m so so sorry! Gods, it’s so fucking late already; you’ve waited up didn’t you?”

 _Yes. Yes because I needed to speak to you about our little holiday; because I have been waiting for this call since you promised to call 17 days ago; because I couldn’t possibly sleep until I have heard your voice tonight._ “no, not really,” Emilia glanced to the two scripts Michael has sent her to have a look to see if she wanted to audition for these two films, “I was just reading scripts,” and it’s partially true but Emilia soon realised it was hard to concentrate on reading scripts when she constantly checked her phone and the time every 30 seconds.

“Oh…” his voice trailed off anticlimactically and he was silent.

“Where are you anyway?” Emilia asked.

“’M walking back to the hotel,” Kit replied.

She frowned at the slight slur she heard at the beginning, “Kitten? Did you drink?” _he was at a pub of course he did…_ “a lot?” she added.

Kit chuckled into the phone. _Yes he did_ , “I did drink but not loads,” _Fuck. He did._

Emilia sighed, wondering how she’ll broach the topic about their holiday and her auditions now. Kit was hardly in the right mind for her to-

“Love you so much, Milly,” he murmured. Emilia froze. _He’s drunk…_ She could practically hear his grin.

“Watch the road, Kit,” she chided gently.

“I am,” Kit whispered, “but not the road, the pavement. I’m not on the road, I’m on the pavement,” Emilia chuckled, shaking her head. She resolved to keep quiet then, not wanting to distract him from watching where he was going. She just wished he wasn’t drunk to the point of swaying while he walked; as he did when he last got drunk at the Spaniard. And thankfully, judging from how his speech was still clear and not as slurred or in a strangely animated tone like that night, he wasn’t as drunk; probably just tipsy, enough to loosen his tongue, “Milly, why aren’t you talking?” he asked, “I want to hear your voice, I love your voice-“

She giggled.

“I love your giggles too,” he said.

“Stop it, focus on making it back to the hotel safely please,” Emilia told him, trying her best to sound stern.

And she seemed to have succeeded, “okay,” he replied obediently.

Emilia smiled, listening to his breaths as he walked. Then a thought came to her and Emilia could not wait. She asked, “Kitten, who was that who picked up your phone?”

“Huh?” Kit paused, “oh! That’s one of those chicks Alfie dragged to our booth,” he said. A bitter taste settled into her mouth and it was becoming hard for her to breathe. Emilia didn’t hear Alfie while she was on the phone with that woman, “Alfie kept pushing her onto me because he spotted another hotter chick but couldn’t get rid of this one…” Kit grumbled, “I told her to _fuck off_ but she’s high on acid so I escaped to the loo and forgot my phone-“

“Kit!” Emilia giggled as he complained.

“It’s true,” Kit said.

“At least she’s pretty…” she mumbled tentatively.

“She’s not you,” Kit replied simply. _He’s drunk… and he loves me still…_ Emilia felt a small smile spread across her lips, “I miss you Milly. I miss you so much,” he whispered, “this is so difficult… I miss everything about you…” he whined, “god… every fucking thing,” _me too Kitten,_ “I can’t wait for our holiday together in Croatia,”

Emilia tensed, “Kitten… about that, you haven’t bought your ticket, have you?”

“Nope,” the breath of relief she expected did not come, “why?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied, “just… don’t buy them yet alright? Call me tomorrow when you wake instead…”

“What is it?” Kit asked, puzzled. She could practically see his frown, “don’t say nothing,” he warned.

Emilia shifted, worrying the edge of her duvet nervously, “don’t worry about it…I’ll talk to you when you’re sobered up tomorrow-“

“I’m not drunk,” he protested.

“Alright… you’re not,” she sighed.

“So tell me,” he said.

“Kitten-“

“I’m really not drunk, Milly. I can’t be more sober than I am now,” he replied, sounding serious.

“Where are you?” Emilia asked.

She heard a door opening, “literally just stepped into my room,” Kit replied.

She paused, hesitating.

“Emilia,” he said warningly.

She sighed, “Michael called me…”

A beat passed in silence, “and?” Kit asked, his voice lower, cautious.

“He’s arranged for some auditions in LA next week so I would have a movie or a short film to work on come January, after Thrones-“

“ _What?_ ” she heard a shaky breath leave him. His voice sounded strangled as he asked, “how long?”

“Michael said with the auditions for all the roles he thought will be suitable, and chemistry reads for the parts that require it, it’ll probably take a week, or less I’m hoping,” Emilia finished.

She waited for his response with a bated breath but there was no reply for a long time. Emilia only wished she could see his face. She bit her tongue, resolving to give him time and be patient.

“ _2 months_ ,” Kit hissed. She flinched. She has never heard him talk to her like that, “2 _fucking_ months of being apart, Emilia. And _God_ did it hurt…it still hurts,” he told her through gritted teeth. She felt tears begin to sting her eyes, “I thought you missed me, like I missed you so. Fucking. Much. Every single day-“

“I do. I do, I miss you so much Kit-“

“Don’t give me that _bullshit_ ,” Emilia blinked, stunned. She’d never even think Kit would talk to her like that; so angry and with a tone so filled with disdain. _He’s only saying these things because he’s drunk-_ “how can you say that to me and keep _doing_ these things to keep us apart?!” Kit growled.

 “Kitten-“

“Don’t call me that!” he snapped.

She flinched and bit her lips against a sob. _He’s drunk._ She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she said, “Kit, I’m not doing anything yet-“

“How could you be so _selfish_ , Emilia?” he murmured. The air rushed out of her gut like she’s been punched. _He’s drunk_ \- “have you ever spared a thought for us? For me?” _Oh Kitten, you’re all I think about._ Emilia could barely breathe as she quietly cried much less talk, “do I even mean anything at all, next to your work?” he demanded, “you-“

Emilia realised then Kit was misunderstanding that she was telling him, like last time, rather than asking him. And he was so riled up now he wouldn’t even let her speak to clarify it. Emilia snapped, “yes you do!” Kit, thankfully, quietened, “you mean _everything._ Which is why I called to discuss this with you!”

 Kit did not say anything for a while and Emilia sniffed, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“What is there to discuss, Emilia?” He asked, his tone deadened, “what do you want me to say? What _can_ I say, or do apart from encouraging you to go and wishing all the best for you because I love you-“ his voice broke and her heart wrenched painfully, “I love you and I can’t stand another moment away from you-“

Swallowing a sob, she said thickly, “Tell me not to go Kitten. And I wouldn’t,” _then we can spend next week together, we can go sightseeing in Croatia. Please…_

Silence.

Kit chuckled bitterly, “don’t put this on me, Emilia,” he whispered, “Just go. I know you want to. Go for your auditions in LA and I’ll see you…” she thought she heard a little sniffle, “whenever,” with that, he hung up.

The phone slipped from her grasp. For a moment, she stared at her phone in disbelief through her tears. _How has it come to this?_ She sat as the pain in Kit’s words sink into her. The first sob ripped from her throat and she turned to bury her face into her pillow, clutching it to her to muffle the sobs as she wept.  

_November 23 rd 2011, 1pm, London. _

**Kit**

“Thank you Kit,” the agent shook his hand.

“Thank you,” Kit smiled and took the keys he handed over.

“Have you told your girlfriend about it?” he asked, beaming.

Kit’s smile faltered but he forced it to stay, “um, not yet,” he said thickly, “she’s out of the country, for work,”

The agent nodded as he packed the documents into his briefcase, “well this is a lovely apartment, she’ll be very happy. Good day,”

“Good day,” Kit forced his smile to widen as he walked with the property agent to the door and closed it behind him. Taking in a breath, Kit turned and looked around at the second floor, two bedroom apartment he just bought with the money he earned from season 2 of Thrones. It was for Emilia as a birthday present. He has been looking since end September when he first got the idea to get an apartment for her birthday. By October, on her birthday, he already has had his eye on this apartment and contacted the agent.

He’d chosen the second floor with the thought that she would love for a space where she could see the London activity from her apartment and yet be removed from it enough to have her own space. There was even a long narrow balcony where she could settle to read when London decides to bless them with good weather. From his position at the door, he could see the space where he thought she would love to have her living room. The space was large and well-lit by a ceiling to floor window.

Beside it, there was an abnormally large space that was the kitchen, partitioned off from the rest of the apartment by two long counters where there would be plenty of space for her to cook and bake.

_“You do love to cook and bake don’t you?” he asked. Emilia looked to him, feeding him a piece of crisp, nodding. He muttered automatically before he could process it, “we’ll need a big kitchen,”_

_Emilia grinned, nodding, “ohhh yeah, and a huge oven. And a place to put all the tea,”_

_Kit chuckled, speaking in a posh British accent, “so British, Clarke,” she giggled._

He wandered into the kitchen, smiling when he saw the huge oven and all the drawers from which she could pick one or a few to put all her tea. It felt like a lifetime ago when they were huddled together on the couch on New Year’s Eve at his apartment, waiting for dinner to be ready; so in love and protected from all the problems they now have. It was simple with just the two of them. Kit could still hear her adorable little giggle when he teased her. He chuckled to himself.

The two bedrooms were beside the other. Kit could already guess which she would pick and not because of the bath in one of the bedrooms but because of the bay window which she could turn into a cosy corner for her to lounge on and read or catch a kip.

Kit has not bought this house for them but for _her._ Even if he knew inwardly, the moment she shifted in, he’ll be spending lots of time here as well and a small part of him enjoyed the thought of them having a private space.

However, Kit was well aware how much she loved her mates and she might prefer to stay with them, not having the heart to shift out and appear to be distancing herself from them the moment she glimpsed some semblance of success. And Kit did not intend to pressure her into doing such a thing. He just wanted to get her something he knew she would need and at some point in her life, she’ll need a place to call her own. It suited him fine even if she wanted to move in here with Lola because the apartment they were currently staying in was terribly cramped; housing 5 of them.

Whatever she wanted to do with this apartment, it was wholly her choice; it would be hers and Kit was simply chuffed that he got to pick it out. It was currently still empty and Kit knew he’d be more than happy to help her shop for furniture to fill it out after they were done with Thrones.

He dug into his bag at the counter and pulled out a framed photograph he took on his camera, printed and framed. A little extra present for her that she would see when she saw the apartment herself.

She looked beautiful in it, as she always did. He took in a deep sharp breath as he felt the now familiar ache in his chest at the sight of her lovely face. Gently, he traces the side of her face with his thumb. They were going into their third month of being apart and it was taking its toll. Kit found himself smoking more than he should since he returned from Belfast and he has begun visiting bars alone late at night for a drink when he couldn’t sleep; which was getting more frequent.

He missed her and even if smoking relieved the tension, it did nothing for the dull ache. Drinking provided relief only if he passed out from it and if he didn’t, the longing only worsened. Sometimes, even when he passed out, he would dream of her. It made him absolutely miserable when he woke, and not merely because of the hangover but because she wasn’t there, like in his dream.

Kit pulled out the stand for the frame and propped the photograph on the counter. He dug into his right pocket and pulled out his phone, completely ignoring his cigarettes in his left. He didn’t need them; he didn’t want to run away from how much he missed her, not now. Kit unlocked it and went to their chat.

It was 5am over at Los Angeles. Their last message was him wishing her a good morning, two hours after she wished him good night.

Apart from their usual morning and night greetings, they have last spoken three days ago over the phone.

Kit had woken after the afterparty late the next day. His head was pounding but not as much as his heart did when all that has happened the night before flooded back into him. Kit was horrified; of how he had reacted, what he had said to her and most of all, how he had left it before he promptly collapsed into bed, passed out. When he checked his phone, his guilt sucked the breath from his body as he saw her 2 missed calls and a message, from 2 hours ago, that told him she was boarding the flight to LA and she’ll let him know when she landed.

_If you want to know._

She had added at the end of her message and it felt like a stab in his gut. His reply to her has been littered with apologies that Kit knew was useless at this point and assurances that she had his full support for the auditions. All through the remaining 13 hours of her flight, Kit called the front desk to extend his stay at the hotel before he stayed in bed, staring at his phone even if he knew she would not be able to reply. He took every pang of headache from his hangover that made him curl up in pain, knowing he deserved all of it and more.

Kit could only imagine how Emilia felt after what he had said to her.

_You fucking bastard… you swore to make her happy and here you are, hurting her when that was the last thing she deserved._

He stayed curl up in bed and startled while he was dozing off when a notification of a message came from his phone. Kit had promptly snatched his phone up and read it. **At LA.** His heart has sank when she didn’t say more, ignoring his apologies and assurances. Just as Kit turned to bury his face into the duvet in shame, panicking over what he should do now, Emilia called him.

_“Hello,” her voice felt like air for his oxygen deprived lungs and water for his parched throat and head-splitting hangover._

_“Hello,” he replied quietly, his voice hoarse._

_“How’s the hangover?” Kit froze, surprised._

_“What?” he blinked, croaking._

_“Kitten,” she sighed, “please get your lovely arse out of bed and down to the restaurant. Order a fruit juice or a smoothie or a milkshake and down it with as much vigour as you did with the alcohol last night,”_

_Kit swallowed, not daring to believe what she was saying, “Milly-“_

_“Be good,” Emilia said sternly, in a voice that boded no further argument. She was not only speaking to him, she was concerned about him. Even after what he has said- Kit felt so relieved and guilty he could cry._

_He nodded. On hindsight, realising she couldn’t see him, Kit whispered, “why are you so good to me?” Emilia did not reply, “what did I do to deserve you?”_

_“Absolutely nothing,” Emilia said quietly, teasing him, “now are you out of bed or do I have to fly all the way to Belfast and drag you out of it?”_

Kit had promptly got out of bed and got dressed before he headed down to get that smoothie Emilia told him to get. All the while, he wished her all her best for her auditions, finding out that her mum was flying out to LA to accompany her. They hung up, exchanging soft shy kisses through the phone when Emilia spotted her luggage and had to collect it. Afterwards, Kit has settled down to sleep and the next morning, he checked out and flew to his parent’s until today, when he came back to London to buy the apartment. All the while, it did not escape Kit’s notice that they did not talk about what he had said to her, how he had hurt her and that guilt hung over Kit, threatening to collapse at any minute.

Kit blinked when her name shifted. _She’s online._ Through his surprise that she was awake so early, Kit smiled and eagerly typed her a message.

**Good morning, Milly.**

She did not reply for a moment and Kit leaned against the counter, waiting. It was only 5.30am over there.

 **Good morning!** She replied.

 **Up so early?** He furrowed his brows in worry that she wasn’t sleeping well.

**Yup.**

His frown deepened. **What’s wrong?**

Emilia did not reply him for a long moment and Kit worried his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing to their picture on the counter in front of him. She didn’t want to say and Kit wasn’t going to force her and cut her off from him.

Instead he typed: **I got your present :)**

Predictably, Emilia began typing again: **Really? What is it?**

Kit smiled, glancing around the vacant apartment. **Nice try, beautiful.**

**When can I have it?**

Kit grinned and he typed: **the next time we meet-** he paused, his grin fading. Deleting the message, he typed and sent instead: **when you decide to come collect it from me, in person. No deliveries.**

**Alright, deal. You better have it ready at all times, Kitten.**

Kit smiled at that nickname as he raised his brows: **Wow, the present have a stronger pull than I do?**

 **Of course.** Emilia replied without missing a beat.

 **Ouch, Clarke, that hurts.** Kit typed.

**Where are you anyway?**

_Clever girl, trying to find out where I got the present._ Kit grinned: **Nice try, Milly. Not going to work.**

**Hey! I have the right to know where you are!**

Kit chuckled. _Of course you do._ **In your heart. I hope.**

 **Fuck off.** Was Emilia’s curt reply but Kit knew she would be smiling from that previous text. 

**Wow.** Kit typed.

 She replied.

Kit rolled his eyes and began to type but Emilia beat him to it: **I got to go prepare for my audition later today, Kitten… so…**

His stomach sank when he realised she was going offline. Swallowing against the lump forming in his throat, Kit took a breath and forced a smile, as if she could see him. **Sure. I know you’ll absolutely kill it and blow them out of the park.**

 **I’m not so sure about that…** Emilia replied and Kit frowned.

He wanted to ask her why but at the thought that they were supposed to wrap up the conversation so she could go prepare, Kit said: **you can do it. Don’t doubt yourself so much. Anyway, auditions are just to test your suitability for the role; not merely your acting ability, which I know for a fact is great. And you’re absolutely amazing.**

**So you say… the casting directors, directors and producers might not think so and not want me.**

Kit shook his head, a smile on his lips: **then they’re stupid and are missing out on a great actress.**

Emilia did not reply and he knew she was doubtful. Kit wished he could kiss that fact into her hard head.

**I’m waiting for you at home in London, Milly. Whatever happens, I want you and I’m waiting for you.**

**Kitten…** Kit chuckled. He could imagine her blushing at this moment and wished he could see and feel her lovely warm flushed cheeks. **Thank you** **You always know what to say…**

 **To you.** Kit replied. **Go on, go prepare. I know you’ll be fantastic.**

 With that, Emilia went offline and Kit stared at the heart, trying to cling into traces of her but eventually feeling the usual emptiness that seeped into him at the abrupt loss of her. He smiled a small sad smile to himself and locked his phone. He placed it on the counter facedown before he turned and gazed around the house. Wondering what he should do with his time now, he grinned as a thought came to him and Kit eagerly grabbed the broom, mop, a rag and a pail.

_November 25 th 2011, 12noon, Los Angeles_

**Emilia**

_Fuck._ She sighed the moment she was out of the room and allowed the forced smile to slide from her face. She has seen their faces and the look they exchanged as she was reading her lines and portraying her interpretation of the character. They didn’t want her for this role and Emilia doubted she will be getting a call-back for this as well, as it was with the auditions she’s been to over the past couple of days.

Admittedly, while she was auditioning, Emilia strangely could not immerse herself fully into the character as she was taught and did with the audition for Thrones. As a result, she only managed to bring out the superficial emotions she thought the character will be feeling rationally in that moment. Even Emilia herself thought her performance lacklustre and hardly good enough for this role.

With each audition she went for and had a very bleak chance of her being called back for a second audition, Emilia felt more and more frustrated with herself. She has given up time with Kit to be here only to fuck it all up and make the sacrifice by both of them completely unnecessary. Wondering if she was overestimating herself and trying to go for roles that are way beyond her ability and if she should have just gone for that holiday with Kit instead, Emilia stepped out of the building, sighing heavily.

Kit has been absolutely horrified after their argument and thoroughly apologised over text but she has stopped him from apologising over their phone call. She did not need him to apologise over something he had little control over. Being drunk and presented with such news, anyone will react that way. Instead, Emilia chose to ignore that the incident ever happened, deciding for both of them to simply forget it. But somehow, from his drunken, extreme reaction, Emilia could not shake the guilt she felt for being here at the auditions rather than spending time with Kit; which Kit evidently sorely wanted and needed. It opened the gates to all her worries about their relationship that she held at bay while they were physically together.

Plastering on a smile, Emilia approached the car she knew her mum will be waiting in. She pulled open the door and slid into the seat, “how was it?” her mum smiled and asked.

Emilia smiled weakly and shook her head.

Her mum’s smile faltered just momentarily before it widened, “it’s alright, dear,” Emilia scooted over and burrowed herself against her mum to hug her as her mum’s arms opened for her, “let’s go get some lunch, you’ll feel better once you’ve got some food in your belly,” she rubbed her arms warm.

Emilia chuckled and nodded. Emilia loved her mum dearly. All her life she has looked up to her mum. Not only because her mum was always the one who was there and taking care of both her brother and her while her dad was busy working on some play at the theatre. But because her mum did that while kicking arse at the office as an executive at the same time; literally. Emilia practically grew up listening to her mum’s conference calls at the dining table as Emilia did her homework and her mum whipped up dinner in the kitchen. Her mum taught her more than a few important life lessons by showing her. She showed her a woman could succeed and watching how hard her mum worked from home and how her hard work paid off, it never failed to push Emilia to take whatever life threw at her and work hard. These lessons brought her through some of her darkest days; when she found out she didn’t get into drama school, while in drama school and when she graduated and could not seem to land an acting job apart from a small commercial that barely paid the bills.

As they settled at a table on the patio and made their order, Emilia glanced down to her phone. It was 8pm at London now but Kit wasn’t in London. Today, he has begun filming in Iceland and it was around 7pm over there. Emilia wondered how his first day of filming went, if his new co-star who was playing Ygritte was kind to him and easy to work with, how he was coping with the cold and the foreign food, if he spared a thought for her as she did for him-

“Kit?”

She looked up, blinking to see her mum watching her with an amused smile, “No,” Emilia shook her head, “he’s probably having dinner right now,” she smiled.

“Did you two argue?” her mother asked abruptly and Emilia stared at her. _How did she know?_ “Oh I noticed the moment I met you at the airport,” her mum gestured dismissively, “but you didn’t bring it up and seemed to still be texting him so I didn’t ask,”

Emilia nodded, glancing about for a moment before meeting her mum’s eyes; so filled with sympathy and understanding, “it’s nothing. Just… we were supposed to meet but I have the auditions…”

“Oh darling, long distance relationships have always been hard,” her mum forced a smile and Emilia mirrored it. Her mum knew it better than anyone. When her dad was younger, he’d travel a lot for his job as a sound director for the theatre, leaving her mum and putting them through having to maintain a long distance relationship for a while; until he got older and eased up on his job to spend more time with family.

Emilia sighed, “how did you and dad manage it at all? And with two kids running amuck in the house,”

Her mum chuckled, “a lot of trust, communication, understanding and more than a lot of love,”

“Sounds about right…” Emilia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing her mum disliked it when she did that, “you forgot to mention pain…” Emilia muttered, depositing her phone into her bag.

Her mum laughed, “oh it’s there my dear, right in there with the love,” Emilia met her mum’s kind twinkling eyes, “it’s two side of the same coin really,”

Emilia paused and pondered. As usual, her mum was right. It was ironic but it was always those who she loved who could hurt her the most. And of all her boyfriends, there was no denying she fell for Kit the hardest. In fact, how she felt for Kit made her doubt if she has ever loved her ex-boyfriends at all. And Kit has hurt her, by his own doing, in a way, for the first time. Yet, when she woke the next morning, hurt and her face stiffed and stained with tears, Emilia realised she did not love him any less.

“You better arrange for me to meet the young man, Emilia, and soon” her mum said firmly as she sipped at her tea, her kind eyes never leaving Emilia.

Emilia chuckled, “whatever for?” she asked, amused, “you were never in a rush to meet the boys I’ve dated previously,” the impatient one has always been her father. Her mother always allowed Emilia her own time and space to explore relationships; as long as no sex was involved, part of the old “don’t do drugs, don’t have sex and don’t touch your eyebrows” talk.

“Because I can tell this one is special and not just because he’s one of your best friend, as you’ve told me,” her mum beamed, “you really like this one and possibly love him. First love?” Emilia blushed, inwardly questioning if it was that obvious, “you just might marry him-“

“Mum!” Emilia rolled her eyes and her mum clicked her tongue in sharp disapproval. Taming her eyes, Emilia fought the burn in her cheeks futilely, “why is everyone jumping the gun-“

Her mum straightened at once, stating warningly, “if he has already proposed and you didn’t tell me Emilia-”

Emilia groaned, “no mum, no he hasn’t. We aren’t even living together yet,”

“Which is only right,” her mum replied pointedly. Emilia almost forgot how old fashioned her mum was every time they get into banter; still a firm believer of marriage first, sex later. Emilia has still yet to find the courage to ask her mum if she abided by her own rule with her dad.

Marriage. That was something Emilia has always avoided to consider so early on in a relationship. She didn’t want to have such dreams only for them to be dashed against the rocks along with her battered heart when it didn’t work. That, and simply thinking about Kit loving her so much and being so sure about them, he’d propose, made her weak at the knees and almost faint. He’d look so handsome on their wedding day- Emilia hurriedly brush away those thoughts, inwardly chiding her mother for bringing those thoughts into her head in the first place. Anyway, it was the farthest thing from both their minds now, with all the problems they were facing currently.

“But you haven’t thought to bring him home…what’s holding you back, Emilia?” Emilia stared at her mother blankly, once again a deer caught in headlights. This was fast becoming one of the most confrontational conversations she has had in a long time, even including those she had with herself sometimes. Emilia both loved and hated her mother for her ability with regards to her daughter.

“Who says I’m holding back?” Emilia argued defensively.

Her mum fixed a deadpanned look on her and Emilia squirmed, “for one, you haven’t even attempted to bring him back to meet us and you started this relationship worrying. And I can tell you’re still worrying. Is it the same worry?”

Emilia sighed, deciding to come clean; as much as she knew about herself at least, “I don’t know, Mum… but I do wonder if this was a mistake in the first place. We’re together because we love each other…and only because of that…but there is so much more to it and we’re slowly finding that out… in not the most pleasant way,” her mum nodded, urging her on, “Kit’s a hopeless romantic,” Emilia could not suppress a fond smile at that. The things he did for her too… Emilia almost giggled as she thought about Valentine’s Day.  

Her mum laughed, interrupting her thoughts, “that explains a lot about this relationship,”

Emilia raised a brow, “what do you mean?”

“He’s frightening you, my dear,” her mum chuckled, “especially with how forward he is, isn’t he? While you’re so afraid this won’t last and you’ll lose your best friend in the process, Kit has gone ahead and is probably planning the first baby shower already-“

“MUM!” Emilia cried, embarrassed and fully aware her mum was taking the mickey out of how easily she blushed when they spoke about Kit, “feel free to leave out the specifics,”

Her mum smiled and continued, “you are behind in a vision that should be shared, Emilia. Talk to Kit and tell him what your fears are,”

Emilia mumbled, resisting the child-like urge to kick the concrete with the toe of her shoes, “I’m not sure this is the right time… we have enough problems are it is,”

“When will be the right time? When you’re both happy, you wouldn’t want to disturb it. When you’re both in a difficult place, you’re afraid it’ll end it. If you can’t talk about problems, this might not be the relationship that you want, Emilia. It might not be the kind that lasts,” her mum said.

She swallowed. Her mum has always been direct and even if sometimes it didn’t sit well with Emilia, it was always useful and worked to knock some sense and realisation into her, “Kit is the right person, Mum. I know he is…” she stated firmly before some of the familiar doubt crept in.

Picking up on that doubt, her mum asked, “But?” she raised a brow.

“But I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m not sure if this is the right time… what with all the travelling, the time we’re going to spend apart filming Thrones, the new jobs and having to put myself out there. Our careers are both just starting out. And Kit… god knows how much he can take before it all becomes too much,” Emilia gazed into her tea. _And he realises I’m not worth all the pain and all the effort…He’d probably give up and by then, it will be too late for us. We’d have no love for the other then, only hate, resentment…_

“And you have been having thoughts of ending this before that happened,”  

Emilia balked, instantly feeling nauseous. But not at the idea of breaking up with Kit. Rather, it sickened her to have her thoughts that she has had since the afterparty, spoken out loud and so bluntly like this; as if speaking it made it true.

“Emilia darling,” her mum leaned forward, “look at me, dear,” Emilia hesitated but did so eventually, “I know how important your work is to you. You’ve loved acting and performing since you were three. And I know how much you want to succeed, you’re driven, very much like me in that regard. I will always support you in whatever you want to do. But you know, better than I, how distracted, how torn you are and how much you hate that it is like this. All this and you haven’t even truly given this up for Kit,” _because he has always given me his blessing. He has always wanted the best for me-_ “this is an important time in your work for you, you’ve just started out and things are picking up,” already knowing what her mother was trying to say, Emilia averted her mother’s eyes as tears sting her eyes, “I am sorry, darling, that you met your first love while all this is happening. I am so sorry,”

Emilia felt her lip begin to tremble and she bit her lip against it. She knew her mum was right. She loved acting, she really loved it and she couldn’t say she wouldn’t look back in a few years and regret what she had with Kit because of the opportunities she will have to give up for him, to keep their relationship going. Trying to keep the tears, welling up in her eyes, from falling, she said softly, “he loves me...I love him,”

“Oh darling, he is your first love and you’re always going to love him. But, with him, at this time, you’re not happy, Emilia,” her mum said, a pained look in her eyes.

“But it’s not just about me!” Emilia looked up, protesting angrily even if she realised she didn’t deny her mother’s point, “it’s not fair… especially to Kit and I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t hurt him like this-“ she choked and the floodgates opened.

“Oh Emilia,” her mother rose to drag her chair closer to her. Her arms on her shoulders, her mum drew her into a gentle embrace, “you say he’s your best friend and he loves you. You really think he wouldn’t notice that you’re not happy? And when he notices, how happy do you think Kit will be when you’re not? And what will you be doing to him if you chose him now and put him above your work only to hate him later for what you have missed out on,” and those were the very thought she had just a moment ago so Emilia couldn’t find it in herself to deny it; even if the very thought of her hating Kit was ridiculous to her in this moment.

Bile rose from her stomach and Emilia hugged her mum tighter. The thought of ending it ripped her heart in two and sobs racked her body painfully, “I don’t want to lose him…”

“You said he loves you. Well, there is so much more to love. You don’t stop loving a person because you’re no longer with them. If you two are meant to be together, nothing, _absolutely nothing,_ can keep you two apart, not forever, Emilia, not even yourselves,”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evidently... we're almost there you guys... Brace yourselves...


	3. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST. And feels...and I apologise in advance for all the broken hearts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [on Rose Leslie] We really get on as friends and we hit it off very quickly when we first met.
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Winter Is Coming, 2013)

_November 26 th 2011, 3.30pm, Iceland_

**Kit**

“Kit! We’re wrapped!”

Kit blinked and looked up from his phone. He has been trying to contact Emilia and was getting worried for he hasn’t received a single message from her since 3 days ago when he texted her from the apartment. Kit was not sure at this point if she was still in LA or have returned to London or Croatia but he knew filming in Croatia will resume on the 28th. It was beginning to worry him; what with the lack of even ‘good mornings’ or ‘goodnight’ from her. Kit supposed she was busy but he didn’t think she’d be this busy…

“Yeah, thanks guys!” he shouted back before he looked back down at his phone. He tried to send her a message to ask if she was available for a call tonight but he wasn’t sure if the message was through for reception wasn’t the best in the cold wilderness. If she was in LA, it would be 8.30am over there. Kit then decided to call her right now, just for a quick check in; unable to bear the underlying anxiety he has developed from not getting the usual greeting from her at the start of each day.

He hit her name and watched the phone begin to dial her number but he couldn’t hear anything over his earpiece. He brought his phone to his ear to check if he indeed did plug in the earpiece.

“Smile!” he looked up to see a crew member holding a video camera. They were filming some behind the scenes shot for the whole day.

Kit smiled before he looked back down at his phone to see the call was disengaged. He frowned.

“Kit come on! The van is arriving soon!”

“Okay!” Kit sighed, tucking his phone and earpiece into his bag as he quickly popped into the trailer of the costume department to change and hand them the costume. He then headed to the pick-up point.

* * *

His new co-star laughed, “you’re funny,” she grinned, running her fingers through her long flyaway red hair. He has just met her yesterday and she was, thankfully, very friendly, easy to talk to, had a sense of humour and was a great actress. They have just filmed the scene where they first met and it felt really easy with their newly founded friendship. After which, they have wrapped for the day because of the setting sun and were now heading back to the hotel.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told,” Kit said, nodding to the van as it came for them. He watched Rose climb into the van in the back and he followed, vaguely aware of the rest of the cast filing in with them.

“Which is surprising by the way,” he heard her say as he collapsed into the seat in front of hers. He never did like sitting in the back, where she sat, it made him sick, especially with how bumpy he knew the ride out of the wilderness would be. But Kit supposed it was only considerate, to scoot in for the others. _Ah fuck it-_ “you just look so… serious,” he tugged his jacket from under his bottom and busied himself with unbuttoning his jacket. He startled when he glanced to the side to see Rose, leaned forward in her seat over the back of his, closer than he had expected, “like Jon Snuh,” Rose teased in a thick northern accent that she adopted for Ygritte, the wildling Jon met beyond the wall.

Kit snorted, “yeah, exactly like Jon Snuh,” he imitated her accent.

Rose laughed, a low laugh that was quiet, contained; demure. Kit fought to keep the smile on his face as he felt a pang of longing for a louder, livelier giggle that held little concerns about being demure whatsoever. She’d always choose happiness over being proper and Kit was more than alright with that. He wasn’t very proper himself. _Happiness has always suited her anyway._ Then John and Mark filed in; Mark sitting in the back with Rose and John beside Kit.

“Oy, mate!” Mark grinned and leaned forward to shove Kit. Kit hasn’t had much scenes with Mark since they left Belfast, having spent the time filming with Rose. Kit grinned, tossing his scarf at Mark, who promptly balled it up and threw it back, “a right piece of work aren’t you, when your lady love isn’t around to keep an eye on you!”

Kit felt his cheek warm as Mark teased him. They knew he was close with Emilia, having seen them together frequently while they filmed season 1 last year and again at Belfast the first few months of filming this season. Beside Mark, Kit glimpsed Rose’s raise her brows, “whoa, Jon Snuh has a lady love? Spill!” she turned to Mark and John, who exchanged a grin.

“Didn’t you know-“

“Oi! Shut it!” Kit snapped, a smile on his lips, “don’t be a traitor,” he warned Mark.

Mark laughed and shrugged helplessly to Rose, who turned to Kit, “what’s with the secrecy?” Rose asked curiously.

Kit shook his head dismissively and averted her eyes as he turned to face the front. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know about him and Emilia but what they have was just so precious, Kit felt a strong protectiveness for it; even if inwardly, he wanted the world to know how amazing his girlfriend was. And they haven’t spoken to their agents about their relationship; neither of them were in a rush for that, it wasn’t like they were being recognised in the streets or even having the time to go out together this past few months. Truth was, Emilia and him have heaps of things to discuss between them, one of them being finding a way around their ridiculous schedule; Kit didn’t think he could bear to be away from her any longer without doing something impulsive. Despite the thought of the problems they would have to wade through, Kit couldn’t think of someone else he’d rather face them with.

He dug into his bag for his phone. Extracting it from the tangle of his earpiece, Kit frowned to see that his message was clearly indicated to have been delivered but Emilia has neither read nor replied it. He wondered if something went wrong with her auditions and was beginning to worry. _Her mum’s with her… she’ll be taken care of at least…_

He typed: **I’ve wrapped for the day. Call me whenever you can, please. I miss you.** And he did; truly, terribly.

They came back to the hotel and the boys dashed out of the van. He was about to leave his seat, eager to get back to his room when he quite literally bumped into Rose, who was just getting out from the backseat. They both fell back into their seats. Rose laughed and Kit shot her an apologetic smile, “sorry,” they said at the same time.

“You first,” Kit gestured, still sitting. Rose nodded and hunched over as she shuffled out of the van. He hopped out after her to see her waiting for him.

“Dinner later?” Rose asked, shouldering her bag.

He met her bright blue eyes and wide grin, shifting uncomfortably. He has intended to call for room service and set up camp in his hotel room the whole night until Emilia called but he knew Emilia wouldn’t like him to do that-

Rose blushed then, “oh, I mean- don’t misunderstand, the boys asked me just now and you were on your phone and didn’t seem to have heard…I just thought to ask you…”

Kit blinked when he realised what she thought he thought she was implying, “oh no, no. I didn’t think that at all. I’m just a little tired and want to spend the rest of the day in my room, probably going to turn in early,” and it was only partially a lie. Kit felt knackered despite how early it was and how easy filming was today. And he simply wasn’t in a mood for a night’s out, he just wanted to stay in his room, alone. Or preferably, talk to her… and even better, see her face.

He thought he glimpsed Rose’s smile falter and for a moment Kit felt bad. He has always been a good sport to hang out and especially with new cast or crew to properly welcome them. But before he could open his mouth to apologise, she said, “oh okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then!” she turned from him, waving cheerily.

Kit forced a smile and waved back, “see you,” he muttered and shuffled towards the lift slowly. He sighed, feeling like there was a huge rock on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He understood Emilia was not good with staying on her phone all the time for he was exactly the same but it was so unlike her that she was just…gone; with not even a single text for 3 whole days. _Milly… you’re killing me, darling…_

“Kitten,”

Kit froze. _It can’t be…_ A part of him instantly thought he was going mad from missing her so much; he must be hearing things. He didn’t dare to turn around but he recognised that voice instantly; he’d know it anywhere. It was the one thing he wanted very much to hear; the voice of that one person his entire being yearned to hold and kiss. Eventually, his heart led his feet and he turned. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw _her_ ; standing a distance from him at the lounge in the lobby.

 _Is she real?_ Kit did not dare to blink; determined to take in the sight of her even if, especially if, she turned out to only be his imagination. All the air was sucked from his lungs as he stared at her, and his heart was racing as blood thundered in his ears. Shivers ran through his entire body, chilling his hands and feet. His hands twitched at his side, longing to touch and hold her to him but his feet seemed rooted to the ground, unable to move.

His lips parted but his tongue was heavy, like lead, in his suddenly parched mouth, “ _Milly,_ ” he managed to whisper with a shaky breath. All that he felt; the disbelief, the relief, the yearning, the love, were reflected in her lovely, expressive face. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, as was the tip of her nose. She was wearing a thick winter jacket and a scarf around her neck. She looked absolutely beautiful and so adorable.

Kit heard a laugh then. It took him a moment to realise it was his own, a shaky but undeniably happy sound. He felt tears sting his eyes and he willed himself to go to her but he couldn’t; he couldn’t even move his hands even if he tried, much less his feet.

Anticipation tightened his throat and made it impossible to draw breath when Emilia bolted from where she was, making a beeline towards him. As she neared, he didn’t realise his arms opened to her till he glimpsed them. It was like his body knew what to do around her. His heart felt as if it has entirely stopped when she collided into him, not even bothering to slow down. With his breath knocked from him, his arms hugged her to him firmly. He lifted her from the ground as how she lifted him from the anguish of being separated for so long; simply by existing and now appearing before his very eyes.  

Her arms around his neck tightened and his oxygen supply was cut off promptly but Kit had something sweeter than oxygen, which he held it in his arms. He felt her legs curl around him, her boot-clad feet on the back of his thighs as she clung onto him as he did to her. Every inch of her petite body was pressed firmly against his so much so they were almost one. Kit tightened his arms around her as he turned his head, wanting to kiss her. He only managed to reach the side of her head where he press his lips to and kissed her soundly.

Emilia nestled her face deeper into the crook of his neck and he chuckled, nudging her with his bearded jaw to coax her to turn towards him. His lips eventually found their way onto the skin of her temple where he kissed her thoroughly.

She giggled and for Kit, in that moment, everything was perfect again.

* * *

“What?” Emilia muttered, glancing to him. Kit has not taken his eyes off of her since he saw her at the lobby. Now, they were cramped into the corner of the lift on their way up to his hotel room. En route, many people came into the lift and Kit eagerly gathered her into his arms as she scooted closer to him to make space, making her giggle. All the while, his eyes took in the sight of her like a man starved, and in a way, he was.

Up close, Kit could see that there were tired bags under her eyes and disturbingly, Kit noticed that her beautiful blue-gold eyes looked slightly puffy; looking like she has been crying. Not wanting to ask her now in a lift full of people, he leaned closer. She smiled and shied away from him. Chuckling, he pecked her gently on her cheek, letting his lips stay. She smelled amazing and her blushing cheek was warm; warming the cold tip of his nose nicely.

“Kitten,” she chided softly, smiling, and pulled away. Kit’s smile faltered for a moment before he realised she was glancing around to see if anyone noticed or was looking. He was inwardly amused at how shy she could be about being affectionate around strangers, even now. He was slowly learning hugs were fine and welcomed; kisses, she still shied from. Kit himself didn’t like putting a show of their relationship for others, but he simply couldn’t help himself now. Nonetheless, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable, he rested his head back against the wall of the lift, feeling content just getting to hold her and gaze at her.

Slowly, everyone vacated the lift and they rode the lift up to Kit’s floor, the second highest. Emilia gently extracted herself from him as the lift got less crowded, stepping away from him. Kit quelled his disappointment by taking her hand. He felt her hesitate before her hand closed around his and Kit furrowed his brows in puzzlement. Holding her bag in one hand and her hand in the other, Kit gazed to her as they made their way to his room.

She wasn’t smiling and neither was she looking at him. Instead, Emilia glanced around the hotel corridor. If Kit was to be completely honest with himself, she looked to be averting his gaze. _She’s probably tired… I would be, after flying from LA to Iceland; an 11 hours flight. And she did it for me._ Kit smiled, squeezing her hand. _Do you know how amazing you are-_

“The girl at the lobby,” Emilia spoke, “she’s playing Ygritte?”

Kit paused. They came to his room and he let her go to dig into his bag for his card, “yeah. She’s Rose, Rose Leslie,” he peered at her face curiously as he replied her, wondering if her question meant anything more than what she asked. Emilia met his eye momentarily and forced a smile as she nodded in acknowledgment.

“What is she like?” Emilia asked.

Kit pushed open the door and held it open for her. He shrugged, “she’s friendly, a nice person,” he watched her closely as she walked into his room, shooting him a sweet appreciative smile for holding the door open for her.

Emilia nodded quietly at his reply. It was evident to Kit by now there was something on her mind that she wasn’t saying and it was bothering her. By extension, Kit felt an unsettling feeling in his gut that she was obviously upset. For a moment he wondered if it has got to do with Rose Leslie but Kit felt Emilia wouldn’t be this jealous, not so soon, especially when he hasn’t behaved in any way that gave her a reason to be.

Kit let the door close behind him as he followed her into his hotel room. She was looking around curiously. His room was neat, tidied by room service in the day while he was on location. Kit watched her as she was, as usual, drawn to the fresh flowers in the vase on the table by the window. He smiled as she sniffed it and smiled. Kit placed her bag by the bed. Emilia was now standing by the window, gazing out. He had so many things he wanted to ask her and tell her. But as Emilia stood there, just a few steps away from him, his heart sang and his blood rushed. Kit didn’t know where to begin.

His entire body screamed to be near her again; to hold her in his arms and never let her go; to fit against her the way it knew it’ll fit perfectly against hers. His heart hasn’t slowed from the intense pounding from when he first saw her in the lobby, fuelling his desire to kiss her, to be with her in every way two people can be together, to love her. Yet, Kit stayed where he was, powerless as he secretly revelled to even be with her; to be in the same room, to be merely a few paces away from her. In a way, Kit was thankful for the cruel distance that has separated them these past few months, it taught him to treasure every little thing about this wonderful human being that by some divine intervention, he could call his.

Emilia looked so beautiful just standing there, gazing down at the city against the setting sun. Kit was reminded of when they have first kissed, at Cavehill; their little blissful moment blanketed by an orange glow not unlike this one. Kit grinned and he turned from her. Quietly, he opened his wardrobe and retrieved the apartment keys from his luggage and slipped it into his pocket. He has tied a little yellow ribbon, her favourite colour, on the ring of it when he thought it looked pathetic as a present without it. Closing the door to the wardrobe, Emilia was still standing at the window.  

He approached her then. Emilia glanced to the side and Kit knew she knew he was coming closer. It suited him fine, he didn’t want to startle her. When he was near enough, he snaked his arms around her waist, lightly nuzzling the side of her head with his cheek. Standing up against her back like this, Kit was momentarily surprised with how little she was; _were we really apart for so long?_ As he tightened his arms around her waist, Kit instantly noticed she’s lost considerable weight and the realisation struck him painfully right in his heart. _Milly…_ He peppered the side of her face with kisses and he smiled when he felt her lean back into him, her hands stroking his arms around her waist.  

“This reminds me of Cavehill,” he whispered.

“Hmmm?” Emilia made a vague noise of question. Her eyes were closed as her body rested back into his, her head leant against his. She nuzzled her temple to his bearded jaw and Kit glimpsed a small smile on her lips as his beard scuffed her skin. She seemed to like it although the question as to why escaped Kit entirely. Her skin was so soft, in his mind it was impossible for it to feel good up against his growing, prickly beard. But it made her smile, and that was all that was important.

“The colour of the sunset,” he told her, “and you,” he smiled, “still as lovely as you were that day,” he kissed her gently on the soft spot under her ear and heard a soft shuddering breath escape Emilia. He whispered, “you know… I told you I was falling in love with you at that time… and in a way, nothing has changed. I still am, every single day… I’m so glad you’re here, Milly,”

Subtly, he reached for his pocket. His fingers found the key and he drew them out, anticipating her reaction with a bated breath. Just the thought of her grin, the sparkle in her eyes; the sight of her happiness, made his body tense with an excitement that Kit could barely contain. But before he could pull the keys from his pocket, he felt Emilia pry his arm from around her. His smile faded as she drew herself away from him entirely. His body shuddered in protest at the loss of her and her warmth. Kit watched her, puzzled and concerned as she slowly turned to look at him.

Kit was alarmed to see her reddened eyes and the tears that welled up in them. A lump formed in his throat at the sight of her tears and his stomach twisted nauseatingly, “Milly!” he dropped the keys back into his pocket and brought his hands to her face; frantic to quell her worry, anxiety and fix whatever was upsetting her. He cupped her face gently between his hands but a sob ripped itself from her throat and his heart wrenched painfully. He gathered her into his arms and Emilia pressed her face into his shoulder, her hands fisting his shirt. He whispered soft meaningless words of assurances and love into her ear but she only sobbed harder.

Kit was completely bewildered. _Was it her auditions? Did she do badly?_ But Kit knew Emilia was stronger than this and failed auditions, which she have been through before, will not warrant such a response from her. _Did something happen with her family? But she was just with her mother…Was filming in Croatia going badly… fuck, I haven’t been asking-_

He held her close. Palming the back of her head, he pressed a firm kiss to the side of her head and stole a breath of her sweet scent, “Milly?” he asked as her sobs quietened momentarily.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, confusing Kit further. His hand begun to caress the back of her head. _It’s alright…why are you apologising-_ “Kit…” _not Kitten._ She said thickly, “this is not going to work…” His hand stilled and his body tensed. _What?_ He felt as if he has been stabbed, the air leaving his lungs. His arms tightened around her instinctively, “we should stop this… before-“ she choked on her words over a sob and Kit felt tears sting his eyes, from the ache he felt at seeing her cry or from the pain her words caused him, he wasn’t sure, “before we can’t even stay friends after…”

 _What are you saying, Milly?_ Kit didn’t notice her hands that fisted his shirt have opened until he felt her push him away by his chest. No matter how gentle that gesture, it stung. He let her go and took her shoulders in her hands. Searching her face, Kit could only gaze at her in disbelief. _It must be a prank of sorts… That’s it._ He managed a chuckle. _This cheeky, cruel girl… pranking me after seeing me for the first time in months…_ “it’s not working, Milly. I’m onto it-“ he forced a smirk.

A tear rolled down her flushed cheek and Kit felt his smile fade and a flash of fear as his confidence faltered. She squeezed her eyes shut at the sight of his face crumbling and only shook her head.

“Milly, it’s not funny…” he said weakly, almost pleading that she’ll grin and reveal the prank for what it was. He swallowed to keep the tears welling in his eyes from falling. He took a step towards her but she matched it with a step back. _She doesn’t look like she’s feigning…_ Kit knew he’d know instantly if she was; or he used to know. Kit licked his lips and clenched his teeth to stop the trembling.

“No, Kitten,” she whimpered.

Kit forced a smile, “you’ve gotten good,” he chuckled tentatively. She looked up at him, furrowing her brows in confusion, “guess I’m not so shabby a teacher as you made me out to be,” he said and she realised what he was talking about. Her face dissolved into a fresh wave of tears. Kit swallowed, “lie,” he took a guess, sounding sure and he was proud of how steady his voice was. Inside, Kit was shaking, terrified; he has never felt this afraid of anything for a while…

He prayed with every fibre of his being then, hoping that he was right… _please… I only want to be right this once…this once about this one thing… let me be right about this-_

Emilia shook her head as she squeezed her eyes shut.

_Truth._

With that, Emilia twisted the knife and his bloodied heart sank. Tears filled his eyes as he panicked, rambling, “if this is about the after-party, I’m-I’m so sorry, Milly,” he made to hold her but she leaned away from his touch, shaking her head. She was crying so hard she couldn’t speak, “I swear, I didn’t mean any of what I said that night; I was drunk. Yes, that doesn’t excuse my actions and what I said; they were fucking horrible but I can’t take my words back. I am so so sorry-“

“It’s not about that-“ Emilia managed through her sobs.

 _Please…I can’t lose you…_ “I would never want to hurt you like that on purpose, Milly. Yes it hurts me that we couldn’t meet but a part of me will always be happy for you when you have something new coming up. You know I will always support you-“

The pain was now palpable in her wet eyes as she looked at him, “Kit-“

 _I can’t lose you._ Nearly frantic now, Kit quickly interrupted, “like we promised each other,” the tears in his eyes were making it hard to see her, “do you remember? At the beginning. We promised we will always support each other; that we will always have each other’s backs, that we’ll watch each other’s work-” he chuckled weakly, wiping hastily at the tears that escaped his eyes “I’ll keep my word… a-and if that’s not enough, I wouldn’t drink anymore! I swear,” Kit told her. He paused to catch his breath, watching her beseechingly as he whispered, “Please forgive me,” she shook her head, pressing her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs, “forgive me, Milly,” he pleaded, so close to dropping to his knees in his desperation.

_I can’t lose-_

“Kitten, please,” he could see her bottom lip trembling, “it’s not about that!” he saw in her eyes exactly when she broke, her body curling into itself as if this way, she could keep herself from falling apart from sheer agony.

His body turned to ice, and felt numb, at her resolve despite her evident pain. For how ecstatic it was just mere moments ago, his heart was now curiously absent; his chest hollow. He watched vacantly as Emilia broke down into sobs, hugging herself, holding herself together. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as her petite body visibly shook uncontrollably with every sob. Kit didn’t remember willing his body to do so but he took two steps towards her and drew her gently into his embrace. Helpless in her moment of devastation, she leaned into his arms; allowing him to hold her and keep her from falling apart.

His eyes felt strangely dry as he felt every one of her agonising sobs that came straight from her heart. They cemented the truth in her words, pushing the knife deeper, “I-I-I’m s-sorry!” her whimper was muffled into his chest, “I-I can’t d-do this, K-Kit… When I a-am at w-w-work, you’re a-all I can think about. I’m fucking up m-my lines, I-I’m not paying a-attention…t-that is just so fucking u-unprofessional. It isn’t me; it isn’t me at all! I h-hate it, I hate how I am,” her words cut deep into him only as they cut into her and a scalding tear trailed its way from his eyes down his cheek, “I hate how I always have to choose and I _hate_ myself for choosing my w-work over you, only to miss you s-s-so much I w-wish I was with you instead and fuck up my work a-anyway,” his chest felt heavy and was burning, “It’s tearing me apart, Kitten...”

Kit blinked to realise his eyes and face were now completely damp. _I-I know… I know darling…_ He wanted to tell her but he couldn’t bring himself to; not if saying it meant he will have to accept it and let her go _._ Emilia was shaking terribly in his arms and he tightened his arms around her protectively. He only realised after a moment that _he_ was the one shaking. _He_ was the one clinging onto _her_ for dear life; and she may very well be.

She sniffed and calmed, in his firm embrace, just enough to speak coherently, “I would never want you to be with someone who wouldn’t and couldn’t give you as much as you gave,” she muttered, “I don’t want you to look at me one day and realise all that time lost, all that pain and all that love… they were wasted on someone who wasn’t worth it in the slightest,” _how could I feel that way when I gave so little and when you deserve everything and more?_ “I don’t want to lose you, Kitten. If being friends m-mean I can have you-“ her arms tightened around his waist and her voice thickened as a fresh wave of tears and sobs came over her, “f-forever, then we-“

Kit couldn’t let her finish. He couldn’t let her say those words so he nestled his nose into her hair, his lips pressed against the top of her head and mumbled, “I understand,” she quietened, “I understand-“ Kit hated the way his voice broke as she wept, burying her face into his shoulder, “I understand, I understand Emilia, I understand…”

“Kit-“ she choked on a sob. He closed his eyes against that heart-wrenching sound. The way she said his name made him come back to a body that was so filled with pain it made him nauseous. The tears that poured from his swollen eyes, over his cheeks and into her hair, only made him feel worse.

“Shhhh,” he whispered, his voice shaking so much he doubted he could speak coherently even if he tried.   _I understand…_

Kit didn’t know how long they stood there but he ran out of tears eventually, as did Emilia. Neither of them made to shift from the arms of the other as they cried and even after, as their tears dried on their cheeks. They stood there, firmly nestled in each other’s embrace. All the while, Kit watched the sky darkened through the window, the light of sun that has long set on this day fading. Kit felt every soft hiccup that jolted her petite body, as if they were his. Likewise, he knew she could feel the tremors, of fear, pain and anguish, in his body. She held him as he held her through them and both eventually ebbed away, leaving a crippling ache in their wake.

A sudden wave of fatigue washed over him and he felt unimaginably sleepy then. Emilia was quiet in his arms and she was feeling heavier and heavier against him. The familiarity of that feeling brought with it painfully vivid memories from June, in Comic Con when he had last chuckled happily when she leaned against him like so. Now, the feeling brought agony. Silently, Kit nudged the side of her head. Her head lolled onto its side onto his shoulder and Kit glanced down to see that her eyes, swollen from crying, were closed. Her nose was red from sniffling. With an arm around her back, he slipped his other arm under her knees.

He straightened, lifting her in his arms. _I’m here Milly._ He glanced to her to see her eyes still closed. Her body was against his and practically limp in his arms. Despite her possibly precarious position, in the arms of another, he could feel her breaths begin to even out. She trusted him, completely. _I’ve got you. And this time, I really do. But it’s too late… isn’t it?_ Tears sprung to his eyes and Kit blinked them away.

He carried her to the bed, all the while unable to keep his eyes from her face. Even with her puffy eyes, reddened nose and snot covered face, Kit thought she looked unbelievably beautiful. As they came to it, he slowly lowered her to the bed, pulling aside the duvet. Kneeling beside her, he removed her scarf and her jacket slowly and Emilia didn’t wake. She only stirred and to settle more comfortably against the pillow. He smiled instinctively. _So adorable-_ It faltered and turned sad an instant later as he came back to himself and remembered what just happened. Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, he unzipped her boots, removed it and placed it at the foot of the bed.

Kit pulled the duvet over her and tucked it around her shoulders. She looked so little on the large bed and the sight tugged on his heart. It urged him to pull off his own jacket, letting it drop to the ground, before he rounded the bed and burrow underneath the duvet beside her. Turning onto his side, he propped himself up onto his elbow with his arm around her head against the pillow, his hand caressing her hair gently. As he watched her sleep, a small worried furrow formed between her brows and her lovely lips moulded into a pout. Kit wanted to curl his body around her and protect her. In that moment, Kit realised he would do anything, give everything, to keep her happy.

He wished they could stay like this forever; with Emilia sleeping peacefully in a warm bed and him, watching over her. In this lovely bubble, Kit could pretend she was still his; to hold, to kiss, to love. He fisted his free hand and refrained from caressing her cheek then, or worse, kiss her. _No._ He would do no such thing, not while she was asleep and was unable to decide for herself if he could touch her, or kiss her. _Especially after…_ With that thought, his hand above her head stilled and he settled to let it linger near her.

He satisfied himself watching every twitch in her lovely face as she slept and listening to her soft calm breaths; he revelled in each and every one of them. His heart ached painfully as he recalled her words, the sound of her sobs and the feel of it racking her fragile body. He hadn’t even realise how conflicted and how much pain she was in. And he had hurt her…   _you fucking bastard, you told her how selfish you thought she was being when it was you…You’re the selfish one, the one who forgets and excused yourself with her love that drove her to urge you to have fun with your mates at the bar. She only wanted you to be happy and enjoy yourself and you went to her drunk and careless about her feelings. You were so busy seeing how much you missed her and how much it hurts you, you couldn’t see how she was struggling, how much_ she _hurt…_

_You don’t deserve her at all. She’s kind, considerate, so so giving and you…_

_You’re just a bloke who thought too highly of himself, while in love, too soon._

The realisation struck him almost as hard as her words had.

And now, here they were. Emilia has made her intentions clear; if amidst tears, sobs and hiccups. She wanted them to take a step back from this and be friends again. For a moment, Kit wondered what this relationship felt for her, what it has meant to her. She has said she was afraid he’d regret her, them. _Has she always felt that way? Was she always afraid that I will get sick of her one day? Was she waiting for me to leave the whole time? And in those moments I noticed that she looked at me too intently and when I couldn’t guess what she was thinking, was this what she was thinking of?_   _Why didn’t you tell me, my darling Milly?_ Kit gazed down at her sleeping visage.

Despite that, as he looked at her, he remembered the way she looked at him and Kit knew in his heart she loved him as he loved her. Their time apart only showed him she loved him better. Her love for him made him a better person, it made him fight to be a better version of himself and it made him love himself. His love for her brought her nothing but painful longing, conflict and suffering. She was better than him too; much kinder, much more giving, so filled with love for another. He felt so small with her, and yet so large…

She was the best part of him; at least for the time they were together, while he still had the right to claim her a part of him. Kit bit his lip against the stabbing ache at that thought and Kit felt a familiar sort of angry indignation; a stubbornness he has always had.

For a moment, he obstinately clung onto her. He wouldn’t let her go, he _couldn’t_. _Emilia is probably just tired and wasn’t thinking straight… When she wake, she’ll change her mind and if she doesn’t, I’ll change her mind. I’ll convince her otherwise._ His confidence rose and Kit began to feel better. _What kind of a man am I if I won’t even try to fight for her? To try to convince the woman I love to stay? We’re perfect together… she knows that, she has to! I’ll make her see…_ He gazed down at her fondly with a smile.

But when he saw the furrows between her brows deepen even in her sleep, Kit’s smile faded, his resolve crumbling. _She’s not happy._ A little voice told him. And a part of him knew. Kit felt he has always known. How could he not when by now, he knew her so well? As he thought back, Kit could see the flicker of pain in her eyes every time she just picked up the call and whenever it was time to hang up. Even as she giggled at his jokes, her eyes had a sad look in them. And needless to say, as they came up from the lobby to his room, he’d noticed something was wrong.

 _If you love her, you’ll let her go_. Kit couldn’t remember where he heard it but he remembered snorting in disdain at how stupid it had sounded to him at that time. In his mind, love was always one thing for Kit; pouring his heart out and giving himself and everything he had to that person. Having that person was an assumption he always made. On the verge of losing her now, Kit realised he didn’t understand love at all. He didn’t know how to love someone in any way other than that one way. It was incredibly foolish and probably even childish. Or maybe he has simply never really loved someone before this; before her.

And it was not hard for him to admit that he has never felt this way for another girl; the way he felt about her. Kit was completed infatuated. Emilia was his sun; she warmed him with her smiles and her loving hugs; she brought light in the form of contagious giggles into his darkest moments; she was his centre around which his thoughts, feelings and actions revolved around.

And yet, he saw her clearer than an infatuated man would. He could see her flaws and he recognised them; he saw how uncomfortable she was in her own skin, so different from him; he saw how uncertain she was, even in the way she loved; he saw how she’d wonder if she was being liked, wanting so desperately to be; and now, he saw how her uncertainty and insecurities made her doubt even _him_. But to Kit, these flaws were only cracks in which he could pour his love, to fill them, to mend them and as he uncovered each one of her flaws, Kit would only realise then he has so much more love to give to her. _She’s just so easy to love._

Now, as Kit recalled that once-foolish statement, _to love her by letting go,_ there wasn’t a doubt in Kit’s mind that his love for Emilia would give him the strength to let her go; to watch her leave him and to love her all the while, even if it tore him up inside. As long as he knew she will be alright, he will be alright.

“Kit,”

He blinked. She was still sleeping, still frowning. _She’s talking… in her sleep_. Kit stared, having no idea before this that she did. But he knew he himself was a heavy sleeper and he slept even better beside her so it was probably unsurprising he didn’t hear her when she spoke-

“Ididn’tmeanforthis…” it took Kit a moment to understand what she was saying but when he did, it twisted his battered heart viciously, “Idon’twannago…Idon’t-” she murmured.

He was horrified then to glimpse tears gathering behind her closed eyes, at the corners. Desperate to comfort her, he whispered, “Shhh,” His hand brushed her hair back tenderly, “it’s alright, it’s okay, Milly. It’s going to be okay-“

“Kitten…I love you…”

Kit froze. Terror, anguish and joy; utter, pure joy all flooded into him at her words. He could only stare at her; in awe, in disbelief-

“Kitten,” she whimpered, her eyes darted about aimlessly under her eyelids.

At the sight of how distressed she was, Kit blinked. Ignoring the pull of his heart to kiss her, Kit caressed her over the soft hairs on her hairline with his thumb, “I’m here… I’m right here…”

He knew she could hear him for he watched, pleased, as the deep furrows between her brows eased somewhat, “Don’tleaveme...don’tgo,” she mumbled.

Kit stiffened and eventually replied her; the only thing he would ever say in reply to her, the only thing he would ever do, “I would never. I’ve got you… forever.”

Her next words were entirely incoherent as she barely even parted her lips to murmur and Kit swallowed a lump in his throat as he watched her settle back into a fitful sleep. As he tried to relax and ease his racing heart, Emilia stirred and turned towards him. As usual, she sought him out in his sleep but Kit was floored by how much that simple, mundane habit dug painfully into him now. He tensed as she scooted so close to him, her body was up against his. Emilia nuzzled her cheek against his chest before she settled again, completely comfortable and at peace, with her ear over his heart.

Said, battered, heart palpitated wildly in his chest with an indescribable feeling; a coiled, tensed mixture of surprise, fear, anxiety, anticipation and sweet joy. Just like that; Kit knew he has fallen in love with her again.  

They were two parts of a whole, there was no question about it to Kit then. The nerve endings of every inch of his body felt as if it has been set alight by the simple touch of her skin to his and he was hyperaware of how she felt, how she fit perfectly against him. It was like her body was made just to fit right against his. _How could it be any other way when I feel so complete when I am with her; when she holds my hand, when she kisses me, when her body comes up against mine… when we make love…_

Kit gazed down at her and he couldn’t help himself then as his hand slipped around her little body to hold her against him. It felt so natural with his arm instantly finding its place on the curve of her small waist. _Fuck it._ He dipped his head to kiss her on the top of her head and again on her forehead. Kit tried to pull away but found he couldn’t. This was where he belonged, where she belonged… “I love you too, Milly,” he whispered into her skin as if he could sear the words and the truth of them, into her, “I love you so much,” a shaky breath left him and his eyes slipped shut against sheer love and adoration he felt for her that threatened to overwhelm him and reduce him to a sobbing mess. His eyes moistened.

_God… please. If you are listening… please… let me keep her. Let me stay with me and I will love her better; better than I did before, better than any man can. I swear..._

_Please…_

He began nodding off. Kit felt his head touch the pillow above Emilia’s and he allowed himself to sink into it. With his arm around her waist, his lips against her hair, he fell asleep; terrified of when they will wake. Then, he will have to face a new, cruel reality; one in which, no matter how much they matched, how much they belonged together, they no longer were...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... there we have it. Firstly, thank you all yall brave souls who read this chapter!! I'm a little uncertain about how this chapter turned out and have mixed feelings about it, for reasons apart from the obvious (Kitten :( ). But hope you guys enjoyed it despite all the angst and the lack of actual plot progression with the focus being on the emotional side... Let me know what you think of this chapter and of course... feel free to rant/ discuss/ let it out in the comments section; it's never good for your psychological health to hold it in :) 
> 
> Good/ Bad news: This was meant to be longer but it got too long and I decided to split it up into two parts...so yes, there is a part 2 to this angst and it'll be out latest middle/end next week!


	4. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s no love like the first. The first time you fall in love, it changes you forever and no matter how hard you try, that feeling just never goes away.
> 
> \- Nicholas Sparks

_November 27 th 2011, 6am, Iceland_

**Kit**

Kit jerked awake, terrified. He glanced down to see Emilia curled up against him, still in his arms. _She’s still here…_ A huge breath of relief left him and he slowly propped himself up so he could see her better. She looked pale now, the redness in her cheeks and nose from crying was gone. He glanced to the digital display at his bedside: 6.17am.

He had to meet the cast for rehearsals at 8.30am for filming at 10.30am on location, the moment the sun rose. It was an exciting day today with some sword fighting for him but Kit has never dreaded the beginning of a day more than this day. For the moment this day began, he would no longer be with Emilia, no longer had the right to lay beside her and hold her as he did now.

Kit ignored the stiffness in his body that screamed for him to move, afraid he will wake her. Gently, he pressed his cheek to her forehead and closed his eyes; revelling in the calm that washed over him as he relished her warmth. He stayed still as he prayed for this moment to last the rest of his life but as with everything else, it has to end.

He tensed as he felt her stir against him. With great reluctance and heartache, Kit withdrew from her, gazing at her. He smiled sadly as he watched her lovely face pucker up as it always did while she was waking. Curbing an urge to pepper her face with kisses so she would wake to nothing but love, Kit fisted his hand and withdrew his arm from around her waist. She didn’t open her eyes but Kit could tell she was awake from merely the sound of her breaths and her slightly raised brows.

He watched as she stretched her body from sleep, her brows furrowing deeply as she resolutely kept her eyes shut. _What I will give to be able to watch her wake so reluctantly every morning?_ He chuckled fondly as quietly as he can as he watched her wake slowly and with so much difficulty it was almost comical. Kit instantly regretted it when his chuckle made her notice him and Emilia stilled, blinking her eyes open. When her bleary eyes focused on him, her face lit up with a bright, if still sleepy, smile, stealing all air from his lungs and Kit felt hope bloom in his chest, naively, that yesterday would all be forgotten and things were back to how they were. He felt a grin begin to spread over his face but Emilia’s smile faded when she presumably recalled yesterday.

His body turned to ice when she blinked and averted his eyes; scooting away from him just so her body wasn’t up against his. _Right…_

She glanced towards his crotch and Kit realised embarrassingly then he was incredibly hard and it has been pressing up against her hip.

“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling his face heat up as he glanced to her.

Emilia averted his eyes as she shook her head dismissively, “’s alright,” she muttered hoarsely. She reached up and rubbed her eyes then. Kit gazed at her, fighting the urge to pull her back to him and kiss her face till she was giggling uncontrollably and pushing him away half-heartedly. _I had that… I had you.._.

An awkward silence fell over them as Emilia looked up at the ceiling, refusing obstinately to look at him.

He knew to tell her now, if he wanted to keep this friendship, “okay,” Kit croaked, tearing the words through his dry throat. He felt his fisted hand begin to loosen.

She blinked and looked at him, confused.

“We can be friends, Milly,” Kit felt his own words rip at his heart and as he glimpsed Emilia’s smile, Kit felt tears begin to sting his eyes again and he looked down, hiding it.

“No,” she said and Kit felt that stubborn, stupid hope bloom in his chest again. Then he met her eyes to see tears welling up in them as well. Emilia’s small sad smile widened into a watery grin before she told him, her soft voice wavering, “we’re _best_ friends, Kitten,”

His stomach twisted and sank but Kit nodded, “yeah,” he muttered. Glancing to see her grin falter at his unenthusiastic reaction, Kit forced his smile to widen, “I’ll consider your application. If you get shortlisted, maybe I’ll call you in for an interview,”

Emilia giggled and Kit’s smile came easier, “what list? Don’t flatter yourself, Harington!” she spat.

He rolled his eyes, “you’re so far back in the line you can’t see it,” he teased, “but you’re terrible at this whole relationship thing though,”

Kit realised what he has said too late. An awkward silence descended between them and Kit cursed himself inwardly. That is, until Emilia laughed, “I am, aren’t I?” she chuckled, shaking her head.

He laughed nervously with her, “use your bloody phone, Clarke. At least reply my texts before hell freezes over,”

Emilia rolled her eyes, “that’s rich, coming from you!”

Kit chuckled at her feisty attitude even if he did deserve it. He took forever to reply a text as well, too lazy to type. And he always preferred having a conversation face-to-face; it was less impersonal. He was sure she preferred it that way too.

Their banter ended and Kit was suddenly very aware of how hard he still was under the duvet on his side. Even if they were no longer ridiculously crushed together on a spacious king sized bed, Kit could still feel the warmth radiating from her. And Kit knew he’d definitely not be ridding himself of it as long as they were still in bed together but he didn’t want this moment to end. Instead, Kit shifted, trying to adjust and tuck it subtly so she couldn’t really see it through his jeans.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered suddenly.

Despite the lack of context, Kit somehow knew exactly what she was talking about. A lump formed in his throat and he shook his head, “you don’t have to apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he told her. _If it is anyone’s fault… it is mine-_

“This is no one’s fault,” Emilia said firmly and Kit met her eyes which were already on him.

 _How does she do this… every time, and still expect me to leave her? She knows me even without me uttering a word…_  He glanced between her eyes before he nodded.

“It’s just the wrong timing,” she croaked, “we always have terrible timing anyway-“ Kit chuckled. _Just you and your giggles, Milly,_ “when things settle a bit, when work is easier, or when this industry tires of us-“ _which it definitely will_ , “maybe then-“ Kit held his breath, praying she will say what he wanted her to say, what he wanted to say to her. Emilia choked over her next words, “maybe then, we can give this another shot. If we’re both still…single, and if you still want to-“ _of course I will want to….I will always want to._ Her wet eyes fell from his and she slipped her small hand into his. She said, her voice soft, calm, “maybe then, we can be together …” Kit nodded eagerly, swallowing hard and blinking away tears as he clutched her hand in a firm grip.

He looked down at their hands, marvelling at how little her hand looked in his and how her fingers fit between his. _I once swore to never let you go and…nothing has changed really._ Kit looked up as she did. _I will just have to hold you in a different way…I will love you in a different way. Until we’re together again._ Her blue-gold eyes looked incredibly beautiful, almost unreal as he gazed into them. They were the most honest, kindest eyes he has ever seen. When the awe settled, Kit realised she looked at him the same way as she did before, when they last saw the other in September, in his bed in another hotel in Belfast.

He glimpsed her cheeks flush pink and Emilia giggled then and Kit raised a brow. She smirked, her eyes darting down suggestively to his crotch, “feel free to excuse yourself to take care of it, Kit, it’s cramped enough in there without whatever is going on. I almost feel bad for him…”

 _Clarke… you and your filthy mind._ Kit’s face heated up. _Why do I still love it?_ He groaned inwardly as he threw aside the duvet to see that the outline of his erection was painfully obvious through his jeans. He hurriedly sat up to hide it, futilely. _Too late._ He was pretty sure she saw everything as he practically ran to the loo. Emilia’s giggles followed him and through the embarrassment, the lovely sound of it warmed Kit nicely, making him grin. He grabbed his towel and shut the door, yelling, “piss off Clarke!”

Her giggles died down and his grin faded then. Looking into the mirror, his eyes and face were slightly swollen from crying so much the night before. Kit sighed deeply as he glanced down to the growing bulge in his jeans. As he begin to notice it, he was starting to feel how uncomfortably tight his jeans were; and how good it felt when he shifted and the friction sent jolts of pleasure up his spine. As he unbuckled his belt and removed his jeans, the intent clear in his mind, all he could think about was Emilia; who was probably changing out of yesterday’s clothes in his room at this very moment. The thought of her possible state of undress, concealed from him only by a wall, only made him harder.

He yanked down his jeans and pants and gripped himself firmly. He swallowed a moan as he stroked himself, his mind filled with vivid images of her naked body; the smooth perfect alabaster skin, her lovely soft breasts and her arse- _fuck­_. He hardened in his hand, twitching and Kit felt some moisture gather at the tip. Recalling how his cock looked and felt in her soft warm hand, and then in her, Kit grunted, stroking himself unwittingly faster. He approached his release and for a moment, Kit wanted so badly to yank the door open and go to her. He’d hold her, kiss her and feel how wet she was with his fingers, then his cock-  

Kit felt a wave of nausea then, at himself. _Fucking bastard… she’s your best friend now… not your girlfriend. Stop it!_ He glanced down to see that he was incredibly hard, the swollen tip red and twitching, almost pleading for a release. He growled and turned away, his hand dropping to his side. Kit began washing up and resolved to ignore it. As he expected, an ice cold shower did the trick and as he stepped out, shivering, he realised he has completely forgotten to bring a fresh set of clothes and only had his towel. They never really did bother about nakedness… before now. Kit closed his eyes momentarily against the almost constant ache from the reminder of their breakup as he dried his hair and body. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Kit made to leave the bathroom.

The bathroom has now quietened as the water drained from the pipes. With his hand on the doorknob, Kit froze as he heard a soft moan that was only too familiar. Instantly, he felt the hard-on he has painstakingly got rid of begin to return. Tensed, he opened the door quietly. He heard a shuddering breath from the bed and he swallowed the lump in his throat as he turned the corner. Emilia was still in bed; her eyes closed, her head thrown back against the pillows so her brunette hair splayed over it in waves. Kit watched longingly as her moist full lips parted in silent but evident pleasure. _She’s beautiful_. His mouth dried completely as he glimpsed her parted legs and arched body under the duvet.

Ignoring the twitch in his groin against the towel, Kit was at lost. There was no question he wanted her, evidently, but Kit was also very aware of what they were now; just friends. _She wouldn’t want you-_

A word escaped her mouth in a whisper; a soft sigh, “ _Kit_ …”

His eyes widened and he blinked. A decision was made for him then and Kit walked over to her, barefooted and quiet. She has begun to writhe when Kit came to the bed. He gently sat on the bed beside her. The bed sank and her eyes flew open. Instantly, she blushed furiously, completely stunned at the sight of him. Feeling courageous at how she has uttered his name, Kit slowly leaned over her.

All the while, Emilia stared at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks pink. Kit smiled softly at her, reaching up and giving in the urge to caress her blushing cheek fondly, revelling the warmth he felt. For months, he had wanted to touch her like this every time she blushed, but couldn’t. Emilia doesn’t shy away from his touch and Kit felt the ache begin to fade as he felt her lean into his palm, just slightly. As he planted his elbow on the other side of her so he was now propped over her, Kit glanced over her face for any sign that she did not want this as much as he did. Apart from the same shocked and embarrassed expression, Kit did not see any discomfort in her eyes as he leaned over her, his intent clear on his face and in his every move. Relieved, he closed his eyes and dipped his head to kiss her.

His battered heart fluttered happily as his lips brushed hers lightly and Kit sighed, in complete bliss. But before their lips could mould together, he felt her hand on his bare chest, stopping him, “Kit,” she whispered. _She doesn’t want this.._. He froze, trying to brave the disappointment and shame of being rejected with a straight face as he pulled away. _What did you fucking expect, Kit?_ He opened his eyes to meet hers.

Her brows were knitted together. His face was beginning to burn with the shame of rejection in a moment where he was so raw and so open when she asked, “what time do you start filming for the day?” _Oh…_ she practically panted her question, her eyes wide with an undeniable, almost desperate want and Kit had to purse his lips against a pleased, amused smile. _How did you even think of that? I didn’t even remember we were in Iceland a moment ago, much less that I have work in an hour…my little workaholic…_ Kit felt himself smile eventually.

“8.30, for rehearsals,” he replied softly, his eyes darting down to her moist lips too often for him to look her in the eye properly as he replied her. Kit glimpsed the worry begin to dissolve from her face and he eagerly dipped his lips to hers again. This time, his lips crashed against her ready, eager lips, their tongues finding the other instantly and tangling in a sweet, passionate kiss. He felt her soft tender touch on the nape of his neck that instantly took all the tension from his body and ignited the nerve endings of his skin at the same time. _Finally._ His heart and every inch of his body sang.

Just before he ran out of air, he tore his lips from hers, smirking as a little whimper of protest escaped her sweet mouth. He dipped his head to her neck and his lips and tongue eagerly plundered her soft, perfectly unmarred, skin. She moaned deeply and Kit groaned at the sound of it, into her neck, feeling himself hardening and straining against the towel he still wore, “Kit,” she panted as he sucked particularly hard at the skin on her collarbone, “Kit, wait…wait,”

With the lack of blood and oxygen in his head, it took Kit a moment to register what she was saying, or rather, moaning out. Emilia cupped his face with both hands and drew his face from her neck to face her. Her cheeks were flushed, not from embarrassment like before but from her arousal. Kit looked into her now dark eyes; her pupils so dilated the lovely gold colour was no longer visible. Her lips seemed permanently parted for her to breathe, and moan and whimper, so endearingly. _Milly… you’re so beautiful._ He instinctively leaned forward to taste her lovely lips, completely forgetting that he was pulled away in the first place.

“Kit,” she groaned, half in pleasure, half in complaint. A mild awareness of the latter stopped Kit in his tracks but just barely.

“Yes?” he breathed, his hands, fisted in the sheets in his effort of restraint and patience.

“We’re not-“ she paused, searching his eyes, “you-you know that, right?”

When Kit realised what she was trying to get at, he felt like he has been punched and felt the blow of it straight to his heart. He could no longer breathe as his throat tightened, strangling him. But no matter how he felt, he could not pull away, _not from Emilia_ , even if he knew she would let him if he tried. He didn’t try. He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay like this, with their bodies pressed together and with their faces so close he could feel the warmth of her breaths.

His head knew they no longer belonged to the other and were no longer together in that way but his heart and his body didn’t. They were uncontrollably drawn to her, attracted to hers like a moth to a flame. And exactly like a moth to a flame, even if going to her will kill him, neither his heart nor his body minded or cared. He only wanted her. With that, his lips parted and his tongue formed the words, “I know. Best mates…” his eyes began to sting and he said thickly, “just a fuck,” he assured.

The furrows between her brows didn’t smoothen, as he thought they would with his admission. Instead, he thought he saw her brows rise and pain flash across her eyes but before he could really see, it was gone. He brought his lips to hers as she came up to meet him.

For the second time, their lips collided and a spark flew down Kit’s spine, making him shiver. _Just for pleasure; for the body, not for the heart. Don’t get attached or invested…it’ll fuck you up later, you know it Harington… Don’t-_

Kit’s hand flew to cup her cheek gently as he kissed her, nipping on her bottom lip affectionately. Emilia moaned, pushing her face into his palm as he pulled away to gaze at her. Her moist eyes fluttered open and glanced to him, but when she met his eyes, she didn’t look away and neither could Kit. He was utterly entranced by her eyes; the gradient of blue that lightened into her dark pupils. As Kit saw past the ethereal beauty, there was no denying she was looking at a man she loved, and not a man she was just fucking, as she led him to say before they proceeded. Kit was utterly floored.

 _Kitten, I love you._ He could still hear her say; a murmur in her sleep.

 _I love you too._ He glanced between her eyes frantically, hoping she could hear him when he no longer had the right to say that to her, not without taking away the last thing they have left of each other now; their friendship.

For an unexplainable reason, despite that not a single word was uttered between them, Kit felt she heard him; in the little arch that formed down the middle of her brows, a shuddering breath that she released, in the way her thoroughly kissed lips curved up at the corner and the tears that threatened to escape from her eyes as his did from his. He dipped his head and pressed soft kisses to her lovely face. He tasted the saltiness of tears. If they were his or hers, Kit neither knew nor cared.

As he kissed his way to her neck, he brought his hand from her cheek to the buttons of her shirt and began unbuttoning them slowly, one by one. With each button revealing smooth perfect skin to him, he pressed tender kisses to them. When he came upon her lovely breasts, he peppered them thoroughly with kisses. He reached around her to unbuckle her bra and she arched her back, letting him.

Emilia moaned as he kissed the tips of both of them, teasing them with his tongue and feeling them harden in his mouth. As he pressed a kiss to the soft skin between them, he caught a whiff of the sweet scent of her and his chest ached sharply. It stole the little breath he still had left from his body when Kit realised he has done this when they first made love on New Year’s; _and now, the last._

The tears blurred his vision as he worked his way down to her abdomen, tasting the saltiness of his own tears on her sweet skin. Eventually, she was completely bare for him and Kit sniffled, looking up to see her wet, pained eyes gazing down at him. A shuddering breath left her parted lips when their eyes met. That broke what was left of Kit. Fresh waves of tears came and Kit dropped his forehead to her abdomen, utterly defeated. He kissed her skin there clumsily, hiding his face, as he allowed himself a moment to collect himself.

 _“I want you. I love you,”_ he mouthed over the skin of her hip, his lips moving against her skin. He grasped her firmly, his fingers digging into her hips possessively, desperately. _Please…_

“Kitten,” she sat up and he felt her hands on his hair, coaxing him to look at her. Her touch was so tender, he instinctively leaned into it, lifting his head from her abdomen. She cupped his face with both her hands, drawing him closer to her. Kit closed his eyes and turned to kiss her hand but she guided his face to her instead. He felt her lips brush soft kisses over his face; over his jaw, his cheek, his closed eyelids, his brow, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his nose and his lips.

Kit leaned closer, kissing her slowly, ardently. He wanted – no, _needed_ – her to know, now. Emilia combed her fingers into his damp hair, lightly brushing over his scalp as her lips and tongue moved sensually and deliberately, against his. With her other hand, she tugged at his towel around his waist. It fell away. He felt her hand grasp his arm and pull him to her. He could taste their tears in the kiss and he pulled his lips from hers to press his forehead against hers.

Her eyes were closed but even then, tears escaped the corners of them. As he scooted onto the bed, gently nudging her legs apart and positioning herself between them, he kissed her tears away but for every one he kissed away, two more rolled down her flushed cheek. Snaking an arm around her shoulders and hugging her to him so her breasts pressed firmly against his bare chest, Kit thought he could feel her heart, beating against and with his. Her body was incredibly warm and soft against his.

He eased her back to lay onto bed, his forehead against hers, their lips brushing the other’s. With his arm under her shoulder, he held her firmly. Kit kissed her lips chastely and as he pulled away, she opened her eyes. The sight of the tears in them wrenched at his heart. She leaned up and kissed him. Even as their lips touched, neither could look away and her eyes glanced between his. _She wants me…_

His hips grinded against hers and he slipped into her. They gasped in unison. Her fingers dug into his back as her legs curled around his hips. As her legs tightened around him, urging him closer, he pushed his hips against hers, feeling her welcome all of him. Their lips pressed together firmly and they moaned. Kit felt himself twitch sharply in the warm, soft embrace and she threw her head back into the pillows. Kit followed her, neither willing to look away nor part.

 _Milly…_ he gazed into her eyes, his lips brushing hers as he thrusted languidly. This close to her, Kit heard and felt her breaths quicken with his. He drew every breath with her as their bodies moved as one; caught up more with giving pleasure and love to the other than themselves. He thrusted, particularly hard into her and Emilia gasped, moaning.

 _I love you…_ Kit blinked as the sight of her teary eyes blurred, from his own tears.

He felt every inch of her body coil with and against his and he knew, like him, she was close. As he drew back, his finger ready to bring her to her release before he found his, her hand caught his. Without a word or separating them, she nudged him over with her legs. Vaguely knowing what she wanted, Kit rolled over and sat onto the bed. He leaned back against the headboard with her in his lap. Her legs were still curled around his waist, her arms around him, her sweet wet warmth tightening and keeping him in her firmly.

Biting her lips, her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as he hugged her waist. She moved against him and Kit moaned at how good she felt around him, making the muscles in his legs quiver sweetly. As he gazed up at her, Kit drank in the sight of her eagerly, memorising every detail of her lovely face, her beautiful body, the feel of her weight on him, her skin against his, her tender touch and how soft, warm and wet she felt around him. She met his eyes and Kit felt loved. The simplicity of it was almost appalling to Kit. He knew this moment will follow him, haunt him, for the rest of his life and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kit would suffer but he would not try to forget what they have had; not when they belonged to each other. He would not forget her. _And this is how I will love you now._ He thought as he grunted, thrusting his hips up to meet hers as their movement became clumsy, almost frantic. _I will love you from where I **can** love you; from where you’d allow me to love you; from where you need me to love you. _Her movements quickened like his.

Her hands cupped his face as she pressed her forehead to his, panting.

 _Milly…promise me you’ll be happy, always._ He gazed into her eyes. Kit gasped as his groin tightened almost painfully and he fought against it. _Not yet, please not so soon-_ But Emilia did not slow and as she engulfed the full length of him, squeezing him so sweetly, Kit spilled strongly into her the next time she took him. He moaned deeply. His warm release brought hers and he tightened his shaking arms around her as she convulsed around him, clenching him firmly as he spurted into her.

After he was done, while he caught his breath, he craned his neck and kissed her along her jaw firmly as she writhed, jerking helplessly with each crippling wave of pleasure. _I’m always here Milly, no matter how far apart we are… I’ve got you._ He found her lips and kissed her longingly; letting his lips linger gently on her trembling ones.

As she sagged against him and he gathered her into his arms gently like she was the most precious thing he has had, and she may very well be, Kit felt almost faint, overwhelmed by the love he felt for said precious thing. Palming the back of her head to guide her to rest on his chest while she recovered, he pressed a kiss to her clammy forehead, then another and another.

“ _I love you, Kitten,_ ”

Kit’s heart thundered with both dread and immense joy. To his ears, it sounded barely a whisper and could easily have been misheard or even mistook for words when it was just a sigh, an exhalation; nothing more. But his heart has heard it from hers. It felt her love in the way she looked at him, touched him, held him and now, leaned against him, trusting him with her heart. And now, when she uttered those words. His heart couldn’t have felt lighter, the first time for months, and happier-

She sniffed loudly then, “fuck, I’m sorry, forget it; forget _this,_ Kit,” her words felt like shards of glass on his already bleeding flesh.

_How?_

_How could I forget this?_

She shifted then and tried to withdraw from her place in his lap against his chest. Kit felt panic flutter across his chest, his heart stuttering in objection. Instinctively, his arms tightened around her. _You said you would let her go…_ A voice taunted him; his own voice. A part of him died as he forced his arms around her to let her go numbly. His stomach twisted nauseatingly as she got off his lap. Kit grimaced as he felt himself slip out of her, now soft.

She left behind their mixed fluids, still warm, on his thigh; the only evidence of their love-making as Emilia made herself scarce as quickly as she could. _Yeah, we made love. How could I do otherwise?_ That, and his love for her, were the only two things he was sure of in his life in this moment. Kit felt achingly empty, cold, as he watched her, his other half that so very perfectly completed him, scoot weakly to the edge of the bed. Automatically, he shifted closer behind her, ready to catch her knowing her legs were too weak to walk now but she will try _, as always..._

“It’s fine,” she muttered back to him, not even turning to look at him as she rejected his help before he could offer it; like she knew he would, as he knew she was too weak to stand. They knew each other as well or even better than they knew themselves. The thought of being apart from a person who knew him like that, and who he knew so well, dug painfully into Kit; he would no longer even have the right to constantly be around her, much less in such an intimate manner anymore.

Kit sat back and watched, his heart leaping into his throat, as she stood unsteadily; cursing her beautiful, perfect body for the state of it now. He knew Emilia has always felt embarrassed about this and hated it but Kit did not; he thought it utterly adorable and he loved the moment they would share in each other’s arms, after being so intimate, as a result of the weakened state of her legs. And evidently, he had lost even this as well.

As she ambled weakly to the loo to wash up, Kit glanced down at his vacant arms and lap; where just a moment ago, he felt like he held the world; his entire world.

_Emilia begin to skate back quicker and he clung onto her hand, feeling his grip on her slipping through their gloves. He cried out in objection and some fear as he lost his grip on her and began careening forward uncontrollably. Kit knew how to skate but he knew little about how to stop, especially while he was going this quickly. He held his hands out in front of him, his knees bent, afraid to fall on his arse and embarrass himself in front of her_

_“Milly, come back!” he feign a dramatic plea, whining as he reached for her futilely._

_Emilia laughed and Kit thought she was truly a sight then; strikingly beautiful against the ice and snow. Her eyes crinkling, disappearing in her mirth and her lips curled into a wide, bright smile. When her laughter quelled enough for her to speak, she teased a sort of assurance, equally dramatically, “don’t worry Kitten, no matter how far away I go, I’ll always come back to you,” she giggled._

Kit stared forward vacantly. He could still hear the sound of her giggles and see her bright, lovely smile, “Milly, come back…”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... that's the second and last part of the breakup. Leave me a comment to let me know what you thought of this! 
> 
> About the next update, I'll be going away for a holiday at the end of this week so the next update might come only after I get back! Sorry about that!


	5. Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your first love isn’t always the first person you kiss, or the first person you date. Your first love is the person you will always compare everyone to. The person that you will never truly get over, even when you’ve convinced yourself you’ve moved on. 
> 
> \- Unknown

_November 29 th 2011, 7.30am, Croatia._

**Emilia**

“I am sorry,” Emilia blurted. She has been watching her make-up artist, Kay, in the mirror for a while. Emilia has turned up in time, but barely, this morning with uncombed hair, puffy face, swollen eyes and a red nose. Emilia has sternly forbade herself to cry, especially when she woke and was unable to go back to sleep in the wee hours of the morning for it meant more work for the make-up department to cover up her crying. But it was for naught. She cried the morning she returned to work after their week long break and she cried this morning all the same.

Since she returned from Iceland, it was evident Kay noticed yesterday, the first morning of work, Emilia’s low mood and unusual silence. Everyone did. Thankfully, Kay did not ask about her swollen eyes and silently worked, spending more time than usual with the makeup. This morning, despite Emilia’s best efforts, she has shown up the same way. When she looked sheepishly at Kay, Kay merely smiled and brought her into the seat in the corner to do her makeup. 

Kay looked up, seemingly surprised Emilia was speaking and she supposed Kay should be surprised. This was one of the few times Emilia initiated conversation apart from the usual polite, obligatory, greetings, “what for, dear?” Kay asked gently.

Emilia sniffed, looking at her own face in the mirror; mostly fixed with copious amounts of eyeliner. Emilia has asked Kay quietly yesterday if it was to be a problem with the change in makeup but Kay has assured her it will be fine because Daenerys was now in Qarth and it was arguably reasonable for Daenerys to adopt some changes in her make-up to go along with the culture, along with her new costume, “for my fucked up face every morning,” Emilia sighed.

Kay smiled a weak, sympathetic smile and Emilia felt a tinge of guilt.

_How long are you going to stay miserable, Clarke? You were the one who made that decision and you can’t even live with it? For goodness sake, you did it for your work… and now you’re still fucking up your work for it?_

Taking a deep breath, Emilia ignored the immense weight in her chest that made it hard to breathe and met Kay’s eyes in the mirror with a forced smile; her body language trying to exude the same liveliness and approachability that she had before.

Kay’s smile brightened just slightly and Emilia felt even guiltier that her being down was affecting the crew and the cast. That realisation instantly strengthened her resolve to stop wallowing in misery any longer. _2 days, Clarke. That was more than sufficient…_

“You alright?” Kay asked quietly.

Emilia grinned. The feeling on her face felt almost foreign, “yup!” Kay looked doubtful and Emilia said as happily as she could, “you know me; with time, I’ll bounce right back,”  

Kay chuckled, “boy trouble?”

She giggled, albeit a little weakly than she would usually, “is it that obvious?”

Kay shrugged, “It’s more of a ‘been there done that’ kind of knowledge,”

Emilia laughed, “was it bad?”

Kay rolled her eyes, “you have no idea,” Emilia smiled and Kay asked curiously, “are you two together officially yet?”

The question struck a tender spot and many vivid memories; that were once sweet and now, bitter.

 _I’m falling in love with you, Milly. And I really want to kiss you now. May I, please?_ Her eyes welled up as she resisted the urge to touch her lips, where he’d kissed her for the first time and a thousand times after; each time more tender and loving than the last.

Emilia could still feel his warm large hands cupping her face so tenderly as if he was afraid she will break if he was rougher with her. And his eyes, his solemn dark brown eyes gazing at her like she was the best thing in this world. A look that Emilia was terrified she would never see again.

 _I want to be with you. I want you to be my girlfriend. Milly, will you be my girlfriend?_ Emilia still remembered how his thumb brushed her cheek then, him compelling her with his touch and his eyes for her to agree when it was completely unnecessary; _yes,_ she’d thought instantly, _fuck yes. A million times yes, a billion times yes._ That day, despite how much she told herself she wouldn’t, _not so soon,_ she gave herself to him for his birthday simply because he asked.

Emilia’s breath hitched momentarily before she realised Kay was staring at her expectantly in the mirror. She forced herself to take a breath and let it out slowly. _You got this, Emilia…come on…_ “we were. We broke up,” she said thickly and met Kay’s eyes as she said. Kay raised her brows and Emilia knew who Kay suspected is the guy. Since the very beginning, the cast and crew have always teased them. No one bore any ill will; it was just lunchtime gossips and they have always had a laugh about it.

Kay quietened and squeezed her shoulder. Emilia smiled as bright a smile as she can manage to Kay, grateful she didn’t try to confirm who it was; Emilia wasn’t sure what she’ll say if Kay asked who it was or worse, if Kay asked if it was him.

“Just…this job isn’t exactly the type of work ideal for romance,” Emilia managed weakly.

Kay squeezed her shoulder once more before she continued working on her make-up, “well, some actors just bring their spouse with them wherever they go-“ _That couldn’t have been possible for us…_ “some just tough the distance out. And some…” Kay laughed, “leave it open and do whatever in their time apart but return to each other eventually,”

Emilia raised her brows, “seriously?” _but what kind of a relationship would that be?_ She couldn’t even imagine it. _Especially not if I love him like I love him…_

Kay nodded, “they’re not common but yeah, I’ve seen those as well. Excluding those relationships that are only for the public eye-“ Emilia’s brows raised further. Kay laughed at her expression, “it gets messy my dear, in this industry,” Emilia knew it gets messy, she’s heard stories in drama school but she supposed now, the idea was seen in a different light when she was actually in it and part of these people rather than just talking about actors as a separate bunch of people, “reputation and managing impressions are everything for actors,” Emilia knew that too, Liz, her publicist, has given her that talk a while ago. Emilia didn’t realise she has gone sombre while pondering it until Kay said cheerily, “well, relationships are never easy to begin with, are they?” Kay smiled at her in the mirror and Emilia chuckled, nodding. Kay looked to be about to continue with the makeup when she hesitated and eventually said, “you’re okay, Emilia,”

Emilia paused, looking down as she felt tears begin to sting her eyes. Blinking them away, Emilia nodded, “thanks Kay,”

* * *

“Alright, we’re wrapped!” the director, David, shouted as he removed his headphones. He came over, “good job Emilia,” he said to her and Emilia returned his grin and gave him a thumbs-up.

“Thanks everybody,” Emilia said, smiling to the crew and receiving smiles and thumbs-up in reply before she proceeded to have her wig and makeup removed. Determined to finish this day on a good note, smiling and happy at least until she got back to her hotel room, Emilia saw to it that the hair and make-up trailer was filled to the brim with laughter and a lively chatter that they haven’t had the past two days. Emilia has gotten to know these people pretty well due to the hours she has spent to put on her wig and she felt really comfortable with them; they’ve literally seen her at her worse when she reported in every morning.

“Alright, you’re free to go,” Candice smiled.

Emilia sighed in partially feigned dismay as she looked at herself in the mirror with her dull brunette hair rather than Daenerys’ beautiful platinum blonde, “welcome back Emilia,” she said to herself in the mirror.

Candice laughed, “your hair is beautiful dear,” Candice shook out her brunette waves gently with her fingers a little before patting her shoulders.

“Well, it’s all I’ve got,” Emilia grinned, standing from the chair. She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulders. As she exited, ready to board the van that’ll bring her back to the city from location where they filmed, she heard someone shout for her. She turned to see Lena approaching. Emilia knew Lena was filming today too and she has evidently changed out of costume and removed her wig as well, “Hi!” Emilia beamed.

Lena smiled, “hey, dinner together? We can grab a drink at the bar later-“

 _Oh._ Inwardly, Emilia balked at that suggestion. She was tired and just wanted to stay in her hotel room, alone. Her face was starting to ache from all that grinning she has been doing today and her head was starting to hurt from the effort, “I-“ guilty, she started to turn Lena down.

Lena threaded her arm through hers, “oh don’t tell me you are busy Emilia,” without waiting for her response, Lena walked with her in tow towards the van, “I’ll be damned if you spend another night in your hotel room alone, crying your eyes out,”

Emilia blinked, stunned. _Lena knows._ Emilia’s first thought was feeling thoroughly embarrassed that Lena might have heard her crying despite her best efforts to muffle her sobs into layers of pillows and thick duvet, “sorry,” she blurted.

Lena’s expression of disbelief that she shot back to her was so priceless Emilia could have laughed if she wasn’t so sure she’s all out of laughter today, “no, don’t apologise!” Lena chided sternly before she muttered, “whatever the hell you’re apologising for. Come on, girls’ night out!” Emilia took a deep breath as subtly as possible, steeling herself for another few hours of company.

* * *

Emilia forced a smile at the waitress after she took their orders, thanking her before she turned to Lena, “how did you know? Kay?”

Lena raised a brow, “Kay knows?”

Emilia shook her head, “not- not who… just vaguely. She noticed that something’s not going right…with me…”

“That’s an understatement,” Lena muttered before she replied her first question, “well, like Kay, I noticed, as did the _entire_ Dragon Unit,” Emilia supposed it was obvious; the drastic transition in her demeanour after the week long holiday they took. She spoke much less, preferring to be left alone to her thoughts and she laughed less, unable to find reasons to laugh as much as she used to. It was almost ridiculous to Emilia at this point how she managed to find everything funny in the past. _No wonder some people are annoyed at you…_ “and… I heard some things from the Wolf unit, so I put two and two together-”

Emilia stiffened, “is he alright?” she blurted instantly, suddenly utterly afraid. She hasn’t contacted him since she left Iceland.

_Emilia blew dry her hair at the dresser. She could hear him going about the hotel room as he dressed himself to leave for work. She glanced to see him wearing his watch; the watch she gave him for his birthday last year. Emilia couldn’t remember seeing him without it ever since. He clicked the clasp of the watch and turned his wrist over to gaze at the watch face. And his gaze lingered on the dark chrome blue watch face, a moment too long, with a look on his handsome face that wrenched at her heart. His lips under his moustache was turned down in a seemingly permanent frown as he gazed at his watch._

_His warm chocolate coloured eyes held a quiet, sad look that she saw since she woke with him beside her. In a daze having just woken, Emilia has soaked up the sweet feeling at seeing his lovely face first thing when she woke and she had grinned happily at him. But when she remembered, the pain returned and she had reluctantly scooted away from his side._

_Ignoring the urge to make him smile, Emilia tore her gaze from him and concentrated on drying her hair. Eventually, Kit shifted and approached her. Her body stiffened in anxiety and sweet anticipation that he might wrap his arms around her but he didn’t. Both disappointment and relief flooded into her as he asked quietly from his position beside her, “can I send you to the airport?”_

_Emilia averted his gaze, trying not to look at him. She didn’t need any more pain that she was already feeling, “there’s no need, thank you,” she replied quickly, tilting her head and letting her hair fall over the side of her face, concealing it as it contorted in pain._ Please don’t…

 _For a moment, apart from the constant whirling of the hairdryer, no one said anything. Eventually, He asked, croaking, “can I do anything for you?” he was almost pleading and Emilia closed her eyes momentarily._ Don’t cry… don’t cry, Emilia. Not here, not now, not yet…

_Emilia took a subtle breath, for courage, and looked at him. She chuckled, “you’ve done plenty; letting me use your shower, and your hairdryer. Oh and of course, your shampoo; the secret weapon to getting those ridiculously pretty locks,” she grinned, teasing._

_Her heart skipped a beat and a lump formed in her throat when she succeeded and a genuine, wide grin spread over his face, “savour it, that was a one-time offer,” he replied smugly._

_She rolled her eyes, “what a generous person you’ve grown up to be,”_

_“My mum will be proud,” he said smugly._

_At the mention of his family, Emilia paused, the smile fading from her face as her gaze dropped to her shoes. She still remembered meeting his family. They were absolutely wonderful and his mum was exceptionally kind to her. Emilia couldn’t help but feel guilty then and she wondered how she could face his mum and tell her-_

_“Don’t worry, I’ll tell them,” he said softly and she looked up at him. It still never fail to amaze and surprise her how he could read her mind like that, “she won’t be happy with me-” he chuckled bitterly._

_“It’s not your fault,” Emilia interrupted instantly._ If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine-

_“It’s no one’s fault,” he said without missing a beat. She had said it to him. And his grin was telling of his attempt to both assure her and tease her. She rolled her eyes at him but instead of a usual retort, he only smiled sadly as he gazed at her._

_For a moment, she was drawn helplessly to the unblinking, soft gaze of his dark brown eyes. It has always made her feel loved and frightened at the same time..._ No one looks at me like you do…like I’m their entire world. _At the same time, she has always feared when he will not look at her like that again. Emilia blinked before she could lose herself and forget where they stood now; a result of her decision that she fully intended to see through, “tell her as it is,” Emilia said. She knew how much he loved his family and like her, he pretty much tells his mum everything. Having him lie or hide something about himself from his family for her was the last thing she wanted._

_His body sagged with relief visibly, to Emilia’s eyes, and he smiled, “thank you,”_

_She nodded and stopped the hair dryer. She reached for the plug as he did. Their fingers brushed momentarily and Emilia snatched her hand back instantly as if she’s been scalded and she might as well have been. The spot that felt his warmth was burning with a deep, almost dangerous, longing for his touch. She glimpsed him gazing at her, his hand stilled midway to the plug._ Don’t say anything please….or worse… do anything…

_He pulled the plug from the socket eventually and began coiling the wire._

_“Thanks,” she muttered as she handed him the hairdryer to be stowed away into the drawer before she turned away from him. Heading to her bag, she shoved her soiled clothes into it._

_“I’ll call a taxi for you?” she heard him offer._

_Hesitating, she nodded eventually, still not looking at him as she packed. She heard him making the call. When he hung up, he said, “they’ll be here in 10,”_ only? _Dread filled her and Emilia nodded as she zipped her bag shut._

_She straightened and taking a subtle breath, she turned to face him with a smile._

_He wasn’t smiling as he gazed straight at her, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Emilia glanced over him properly to see that he wore a tight fitting shirt over his muscled torso and tight black jeans. Feeling an overwhelming urge to feel those strong familiar arms around her as she rested her head on his chest to listen to his steady heart, Emilia swallowed._ I can’t stay here… _She realised. Blinking, she turned and picked up her bag._

 _“They’ll be here in 10,” he repeated._ Stay. _He might as well have said. And if he did, Emilia just might._

No, I wouldn’t leave if I stay any longer, _“I’ll wait in the lobby, wouldn’t be nice to keep him waiting,” she forced a smile, praying it looked genuine but she knew it was for naught; he knew her too well._

_Panic flashed visibly across his face as he took two hasty steps to her, instantly closing the much-needed distance between them, “they’ll be here in 10…” he muttered, his eyes never leaving her._

_Steeling herself, she tilted her face up to meet his gaze, “exactly, 10 minutes. It’s not that long a wait. In the lobby,”_

_He glanced between her eyes and she knew he’d see the resolve there and relent to what she was insisting. Emilia saw his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. The rim of his eyes begin to redden and Emilia looked away hurriedly then but she felt tears sting her eyes nevertheless at the sight of his palpable pain. She glimpsed him reach for her bag in her hand then and panicking that he’d stop her like this, Emilia tilted her bag away from him, “I’ll help you with it,” he muttered an explanation, “I’ll walk you down to the lobby,” he croaked._

Stop it Kitten… _“No it’s fine, thank you,” she managed. Emilia was almost proud of how steady her voice sounded, not at all telling of the turmoil within. Blinking her tears away, she willed herself to be strong and not to cry. She met his eyes. He looked resigned but there was an undeniable pained look in them and every inch of her strained to do whatever it took to soothe his pain, to make him smile, to make him laugh; to see that he was happy. Before she could stop herself, even if warning lights went off in her head, her free hand cupped his cheek._

This is not what friends would do- _She ignored the little voice in her head._

 _Emilia could feel his warmth seeping into her skin and the rough prickle of his beard under her palm; something she always had an unexplainable fondness for._ I’d miss this.. _. Her thumb caressed the soft skin of his cheek above his beard. Her eyes fell to his now slightly pursed, heart shaped lips. As she caressed him, she watched his lips curve into a small, easy smile. His wet brown eyes fluttered close and he leaned into her touch._

 _She smiled weakly and willed herself to lower her hand but couldn’t, not while he was smiling like that; looking so happy and content._ Looking at you now… I might believe that this, us, truly was enough for both of us and we didn’t need anything else. But it is not. It’s only an illusion, of love and when we wake from it, things will get ugly… I’d lose you; everything.

 _He seemed to know that she wouldn’t pull away, not yet. She watched, almost painfully, as he got bolder and nuzzled his cheek into her palm, letting his beard scuff her hand. Her heart stuttered at the sensation._ He knows, the little bugger… _She’d developed a fondness for it since he was still in the midst of trying to grow it out, it felt curiously different from the last time she saw him in September but she loved the look and feel of it all the same._

_Emilia chuckled fondly as she watched his smile widen sweetly, his eyes still closed as he indulged himself. Her heart ached painfully that such a simple gesture from her could bring him so much joy, evidently, and yet all she brought him now was pain._

Time to go.

_Her smile faded and reluctantly, she dropped her hand from his face. Strangely, Emilia felt she lost a part of herself as she tore her touch from him. His eyes flew open and his smile faded instantly. He looked almost scared, desperate, as he glanced over her face and his lips parted._

_Not wanting him to speak and waver her resolve or cause them more pain, Emilia flattened her palm onto his chest and got onto her tip toes. It worked and his lips pressed together, silenced as she neared. He tensed and stood completely still as she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. She hadn’t meant to linger, this time truly but Kit leaned into her; his temple against her forehead. With her nose against his cheek like this, she could smell the scent of his bath soap on his skin. It was so familiar. She opened her eyes. His eyes were closed, his brows lifted in evident distress, fear._

_She felt tears sting her eyes but she held them at bay, gulping, “bye,” she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek._

_She heard a shuddering breath leave him as she withdrew. She glimpsed him following her unwittingly, his head barely catching itself as she completely pulled from him. Emilia glimpsed his eyes begin to open and she hurriedly turned from him as a tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She subtly wiped it away as she walked towards the door._

_He didn’t say or do anything. Her hand grasped the cold handle of the door and she pulled it open. Just as she stepped out, she thought she heard a soft sob, a gasp, behind her but she couldn’t be sure._ Don’t you dare look back, Emilia. _Hastily, she practically ran out the room and down the corridor to the lift. She waited numbly for it and stepped into an empty lift when it came. The lift doors were not yet shut when the welled-up tears broke over the edge and she barely managed to muffle her sob with her hand._

Emilia blinked, trying to get rid of the moisture that have gathered in her eyes as she recalled what has happened. She looked up to see Lena sitting quietly opposite her, looking at her. She hasn’t answered her question about how she knew about it. Emilia looked away, highly aware of how she had reacted; over-reacted. Emilia shifted uncomfortably and feigned disinterest.

Lena chuckled at her effort, shaking her head.

 _Could something have happened to him?_ _Is it because of what happened between us? Is it because of what I said to him? Oh god… please be alright… nothing must happen to him…_

 “Lena,” Emilia probed, furrowing her brows in quiet anxiety. Lena pursed her lips, her green eyes still watching her piercingly but she did not reply for a long moment. Emilia snapped then, the anxiety becoming unbearable and making her irritable, “Lena!” Lena blinked, evidently surprised by her tone. Emilia has never spoke to any of her friends like this; especially not Lena whom she adored. Guilt filled Emilia at the look on Lena’s face, “I’m sorry,” she said before scooting to the edge of her seat, “please, tell me what’s happening at Wolf Unit,” _please say he’s alright…_

Lena sighed, “he’s fine,” Emilia’s entire body sagged into her seat then and her heart resumed its steady beat in her chest, “if like you, a little different…” she perked up and Lena’s eyes sparkled with amusement, noticing, but thankfully, Lena continued, “pretty much a white walker on set,” Emilia tensed and forced a small chuckle, recognising it to be a joke amidst her worry. Trying to calm herself, Emilia reached for her glass of water, feigning to only be partially listening, “but the crew said after work, he’s been drinking…a lot,”

Emilia glanced up to see Lena gauging her reaction, “Kitten did always love a drink,” she realised too late what she’s called him. It was the first time she spoke his name or even allowed herself to think it since she left him at Iceland and the pain returned with a vengeance.

“Well, _Kitten_ blacked out at the bar for two nights in a row,” Lena whistled.

Emilia choked on her water. Spluttering and wiping her lips on her napkin, she gaped, “what? Was he alone?” _I should’ve been there_ …

“They went drinking together after work,” Lena shrugged, “but Kit was chugging it and wouldn’t stop. They had to carry him back to his room,”

 _Oh Kitten, why would you do this to yourself?_ She then felt an ache she was beginning to associate with Kit. Emilia felt her jaw clench as her mind instantly began planning how she could get to him and yell some sense into him, or rather, watch out for him and take care of him.  

“Why did you break up with him, Emilia?” Emilia looked up, blinking owlishly. Lena leaned forward, “you care about the bloke still and it’s obviously breaking your heart. Both your hearts. Kit is _devastated_. Kevin has never seen him like this,”

_I hurt him… the thing I didn’t want to do the most. I did it to him, the person I care about…God… you’re so stupid Emilia. You should never have let it begin._

Feeling tears prick her eyes, Emilia looked down into her lap, wringing her fingers, “it wasn’t working, Lena,” she said thickly, “and I don’t want us to be one of those friends who weren’t even friends after a relationship…”  

Lena frowned, “what wasn’t working?”

Emilia licked her lips, sniffing, “the distance,” she looked up, “we’ll be apart every year for at least 6, 7 months if Thrones continues. And both our work will be taking off soon, courtesy of Thrones, if everything goes well. There just isn’t enough months in a year to go around…” she chuckled bitterly, staring at the glass of water in front of her, “and I don’t want to have to constantly choose between Kit and taking up work outside of Thrones while we’re not filming…”

Lena sighed audibly, “literally every actor I know faces that problem,” Emilia glanced up, almost afraid of what Lena might say but her green eyes were gentle as she asked, “did Kit bring it up, poppet?”

She shook her head, “no. I did, while we broke up,”

Lena raised her brow, “you two didn’t even argue over this?”

Emilia blinked, almost appalled at the idea to even let it go to that far and risk upsetting their relationship over something like this, “no, we didn’t. Not really… but we wouldn’t anyway, not seriously. Kitte-“ Lena smiled knowingly as Emilia quickly corrected herself, “ _Kit_ is just…too nice to ask me to give up my work for him. But I can’t live with myself when I have to give him up, time and time again, Lena,” she choked over her words and swallowed to continue, “I don’t want to do that to him…it’s a dead-end…”

Lena blinked, “you two… God…” she sighed deeply, “if I have ever heard of two lovers-“ Emilia’s breath hitched, “separating because they love each other too much, this is it…”

The truth in Lena’s words hit Emilia hard then and _fuck, it hurts._ “Do you think I made a mistake?” Emilia asked, never feeling smaller.

Lena pondered for a moment before she said softly, “I wouldn’t say it’s a mistake, this is a deeply personal decision to make. It’s your life after all, one that you will live. But have you ever thought, Darling, maybe it’s something you can work out together?”

“And if we fail?” she muttered, feeling tears blur her vision, “if we persisted, and we tried, and we fail…” _what will become of us? And selfishly, what will I do then?_

Lena’s gaze fall to her glass of water and she had no reply.

The silence was telling. Lena didn’t need to reply Emilia for she will just be voicing Emilia’s own fear from the very beginning.

 _No matter how much it hurts now, it’ll only hurt more when I truly lose Kit._ Emilia gazed down into her lap where her phone sat. For a moment she considered giving Kit a call and checking in on him.

But Emilia knew instantly it was a selfish move on her part, to soothe her own worry of him. Coming into contact so soon when both their wounds are so raw and their emotions are still on high will do no good to either of them now.

_Kitten… I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I know you are so strong and if I can do it, you can do it too._

Emilia forced a bright grin on her face as she looked up and at the sight of her beaming, a hesitant but undeniable smile spread across Lena’s face. Emilia enthused then, “so are you going to bring me to that bar, you’re always on about, later or what?” Blinking, Lena laughed, nodding.

 

_November 30 th 2011, 12am, Iceland._

**Kit**

_3 days. 3 fucking days._

He slowly lowered the empty cup on the bar counter before him as his gaze fell to his phone. He slowly unlocked it, trying to stem the hope that swelled in his chest. It was futile. No matter how hopeless it was, he always hoped; that she’ll change her mind, that she’ll text him even if she didn’t change her mind, or even better, that she’d call so he could hear her voice.

He dragged down the notification bar to the unread messages and quickly scanned the messages.

 _As usual, no messages from_ her _._

There were a couple of unread ones on some group chats but nothing more than that.

_How can you stand this? How can you be so fucking cold and detached like this?_

Feeling hurt twinge in his chest, Kit waved to the bartender for a refill of his drink.

_Don’t you miss me at all? Don’t you miss us?_

He missed her. It was useless to fight it, hide from it or deny it. The more he did any of those things, the more he thought of her.

She was everywhere. From the moment he woke, in his sleepy haze, he’d reach for her phone and on some terrible nights, having dreamt it, he would reach across the cold vacant sheets at his side for her comforting, warm, presence. When he passed the lobby to get to the van that will bring him to work, he had thought he glimpsed her at the lounge in the lobby once and hoped he would eventually, one day. As he sat in the makeup chair while Kevin did his hair, his mind would be filled with thoughts of her in _her_ makeup chair, dozing off while Candice put on Dany’s blonde wig over her beautiful brunette hair. Through his day, he thought so much of what she could be doing in this very moment that Kit practically lived two hours ahead of the time in Iceland; Croatian time. Or worse, he’d catch himself thinking of the time they spent filming season 2 together on the Belfast set in the first few months; in which they caught each other between breaks to make love in their trailers or even just a snog.

Kit picked up the full bottle the moment the bartender placed it down in front of him, taking a deep swig from it.

His phone lit up then, buzzing on the counter; a message. Kit almost dropped his bottle entirely as he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

It was a message from Rose.

**Are you asleep? Or at the bar?**

Frustration filled him and Kit glared at the message, locking his phone and slamming it face down on the bar counter. He then picked up his bottle again and took a long drink from it. Rose was honestly one of the nicest person he has ever met and she has a great sense of humour as well, very much similar to his own. They got on really well and working with her has been exceedingly easy and enjoyable, more so if at every turn, the thought of Emilia didn’t creep up and dig at him so painfully.

When he laughed at one of Rose’s joke or his own, he would reach for his phone instinctively, wanting to share it with her only to remember he shouldn’t. _It’s not what mates do_. Every time the group burst out laughing, his eyes would unwittingly seek out that one lovely face with that phenomenally bright smile, his ears would yearn to hear that loud joyful giggle. Every time Rose sat with him, looking curiously at him while he brooded, he wished it was her. Emilia wouldn’t need to ask, she’d know what was bothering him. And he’d know what was bothering her-

Kit paused, realising he was smiling to himself wistfully. _And only you can make me smile… still. You don’t even have to try-_

“I knew it,”

Kit turned, lowering his bottle slowly. Rose stood behind him. She wore a pair of joggers and a cardigan over a black tank top. Her fiery red mane was combed back with her fingers. She looked ready for bed and she probably was, considering what time it was-

Kit would’ve slapped his forehead if his hand weren’t occupied clutching his bottle of alcohol and did not feel so damn heavy at the moment. _Of course Emilia wouldn’t text you, it’s fucking 2am over there. She’s asleep of course, or at least she should be. I hope she is… she’s always knackered after filming and needs a good rest. And she probably has to wake up early tomorrow-_

“Mind if I join?”

He blinked to see Rose slipping onto the stool beside him at the bar. She gestured to the bartender and ordered her drink. Kit shrugged before he sipped his drink.

“How much have you had?” Rose asked.

“This is my second,” Kit jerked his chin to his bottle, “or third,” he frowned, “I’m not sure…” his tongue felt unbearably heavy and lead-like.

Rose fell silent as she sipped at her own drink. That was fine by Kit; he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Let’s go play ping pong,” Rose perked up all of a sudden.

Kit blinked, thinking he must have misheard her, “what?”

“I heard there’s a ping pong table beside the gym,” she hopped down from the stool, smiling. They’ve spoken of this before and it was something both of them enjoyed; Kit with his brother when they were younger even if Kit always lost.

“No thank you,” Kit replied, “I’ll pass,” he turned back to his drink but felt Rose’s hand on his arm, tugging him. He looked down to see a freckled hand on his arm; a hand larger, paler and with longer fingers than he wished to see.

He glanced to see her smiling at him. _A different face with a different smile_ , “come on, Kit, don’t be a spoilsport,” _she wouldn’t push me like this… she’d know exactly what I need now, before I myself knew._

But Kit knew what she was trying to do. Rose wanted him to stop drinking but already learned by now that he would not stop simply because she asked. And Kit wanted to stop but he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t stand feeling the way he felt without alcohol to dull the ache, even if just slightly, “Rose, really, I’m not feeling it tonight,” Kit mumbled, pulling his arm from his grasp as gently as he could.

Rose tutted and tugged at his arm again, “don’t be a coward, afraid you’ll lose?” Rose challenged haughtily.

He shook his head tiredly and turned away, reaching for his drink, “Rose please-“

“Come on-“

“I said NO!” Kit snapped, turning to glare at her. Rose blinked at him, stunned. It took Kit less than an instant to realise what he has done. The apology was on the tip of his tongue but with so much bottled up frustration now released thanks to the alcohol and Rose badgering him like this, Kit couldn’t find it in himself to care. Closing his eyes in disgust at himself and regret, he turned from her and poured more alcohol into his mouth.

He grimaced as he swallowed the lot, feeling it burn a path down his throat. At the corner of his eye then, Kit was surprised to see Rose slip into her previously vacated seat. Rose wasn’t looking at him as she quietly thanked the bartender for the drink she ordered. He stared at her sip at her drink, sitting in quiet companionship with him. _How is she still here?_ Kit thought in awe, already surprised he didn’t get a slap for snapping at her.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Rose whispered, gazing into her drink, “whatever it is… whatever problem you’re facing,”

Kit felt almost relieved as he heard her say, mixed in with gratitude. He hadn’t even realise he felt lonely or that he wanted someone’s company as he brooded. Eventually, Kit turned back to his drink, muttering, “thank you,”

* * *

“Fuck…” he managed through the massive headache that descended upon him the moment he tried to crack his eyes open. When he finally did and his eyes adjusted, Kit recognised his room despite how dark it still was, having gotten used to waking up before the sun rose in Iceland. He couldn’t remember getting to his room last night. Kit groaned softly, reaching his hand up to massage his throbbing temple but a weight on his arm stopped him.

His eyes flew open fully when he looked down to see a hand on his arm. Blinking, Kit sat up to see Rose sleeping beside him. Her head and arms were on the bed with one hand on his arm. But she was sitting on the floor. In her other hand, she clutched a small face towel.

Kit looked down at himself to see his top entirely bare. Feeling his face begin to heat up, Kit peered under the covers to see, thankfully, he still wore the jeans he had on last night. Ignoring the pounding in his head, he gently removed her hand from his arm. Glancing to see it was still early and they still had an hour before he usually got up for filming, Kit slipped off the bed. Crouching, he gently tugged her arms off the bed. As he extracted the towel from her hand, Kit wrinkled his nose in disgust to see some suspicions stains on the towel.

_Fuck, did I throw up?_

He tossed it away in the corner of the room. Gently guiding her head to rest on his shoulder, he carried her from the floor, mildly surprised by how light she felt considering how tall she was. But Kit already noticed and could feel how skinny she was. Slowly, determined not to wake her, Kit lowered her onto the bed in the warm space he vacated.

Watching her face closely, he let out a breath in relief when he successfully tucked her in without Rose even stirring. She seemed dead to the world when she slept. _Unlike Milly._ Kit smiled. _Milly always stirred when I carried her but she’d never bother to fully wake when she saw it was just me; even from the beginning. She’s so trusting… so giving…_

Kit sat by the bed as he pulled the duvet closer around Rose, gazing down at her sleep so soundly. Rose was beautiful, with sharp and striking features from her light blue eyes and bright red hair. And she was undeniably nice and sweet. Kit was surprised he woke up without any bruises of any sorts after probably getting so drunk last night he didn’t have any recollection beyond the bar. The few people who tolerated him in his drunken state, which he heard was extremely annoying, loud and difficult, and stayed, were his brother, Dan and Emilia.

Rose have been in the industry longer than he was, having done some pretty big projects before Thrones. And she grew up in a castle, born to a respectable family in Scotland. Both of which only served to surprise Kit more when he actually got to know her and was in disbelief that she could still be so nice and tolerant towards him; even when he snapped at her.

The guilt gnawed at him. _What are you doing? You’re upset but you don’t have to be an arse to everyone._ And Kit knew very well that was exactly how he was for the past 3 days. He joined in the meals with the cast and crew, mostly after much badgering from Rose and some more concerned colleagues, but he never made an effort to actively participate or crack so much as a smile during those meals. He remained his grumpy self, brooding. When he joined them drinking at the bar, he could sense that he ruined the cheery mood in the bar by gloomily drinking with the sole purpose of getting drunk.

 _Don’t be a dick, Kitten._ He could hear Emilia say. _Hell_ he could even see Emilia grinning so cheerily to the cast and crew even if she was dead tired or upset inside. _If she can be so strong, why can’t you?_

With that, Kit rose from the bed and headed to the shower. He turned the shower as hot as he could bear and when he was done, he slipped into his clothes before he went to the balcony, intent on getting a smoke. As his fingers reached for a cigarette, a moment from seemingly a lifetime ago came to him.

 _Kit pressed a kiss to her hair, burying his nose in her hair to take in the scent of her, “I don’t want to smoke anymore, Milly,” he told her._   _So I can kiss you whenever I want, so I can always be around you without harming you, so you won’t have to feel the way you just did; torn between what you want and what I want…_

_“That’s good, Kitten,” he heard her reply. She sounded pleased._

_“Will you help me?” Kit mumbled into her hair._

_He glanced down to see her grin, “of course I will!” she turned to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He smiled, chuckling at her enthusiasm. Then he looked down, surprised, when he felt her lace her fingers with his. Her hand looked so small, so precious, in his and Kit held her hand firmly, feeling like the luckiest man in the world._ _I wouldn’t let go for anything…_

_He looked to her to see her still grinning with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “what are you doing?” he asked but it was plain from his smile that he welcomed this. Kit has been dying to properly hold her hand since he let her go when they first arrived._

_“Literally trying to stop you from reaching for your cigarette,” she replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “is it working?” Emilia looked tentatively at him._

_Kit chuckled and nodded, “kissing might work better though,” he grinned and Emilia giggled loudly._

He could hear the sound of her giggle. It was lovely, making his heart flutter. He gritted his teeth and blinked away tears as he glanced down at his empty hands. _Fuck it. Milly, you can’t have it both ways…_

Kit quickly took and lit his cigarette. He took a long drag from it as he gazed up at the dark sky, trying to find the moon. He couldn’t see it and even as he smoked, Kit began to feel irrationally anxious, desperate to find the moon for reasons that eluded Kit himself.

Kit stubbed out what little remains of the cigarette and quickly lit another. But no matter how much he smoked, as he searched for the fucking moon that persisted not to be found, Kit found himself bordering on frantic. He was on his fourth stick, turning in circles to try to spot the moon among the stars when he startled.

“Kit?” He blinked. Rose stood at the balcony door, combing her hair with her fingers, “what are you doing?” she asked, amused. Her bright blue eyes twinkled as she smiled prettily.

At the sight of another’s face, smiling at him, Kit felt his breathing ease. _Don’t be a dick, Kitten._ He took another long drag of his cigarette and sighed heavily before he replied, smiling, “nothing,”

Rose raised a brow but she didn’t pursue it and instead, grinned happily at the sight of his smile. He gazed at her standing there, calm, her face soft as she looked at him, Kit felt his coiled, tensed body begin to relax as he released a breath of smoke.

_You’re okay, Kit. You’ll be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait!! I'm not entirely happy with this chapter yet and will probably edit when I find the time to do so but didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer. And yes, for those wondering why this took so long, I'm still on my massively long holiday HAHA - into the last 2 weeks now. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter - pretty much an insight into how they are coping individually and with some signs of Kit/Rose. Good news, next chapter, Kit and Emilia will meet again :) bad news, I have no idea when I will have that up. Hope you are still with me despite the wait, I will get the next chapter up as soon as I can! Do leave me a comment about what you think of this chapter :)


	6. Mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a flat – the Flat That Thrones bought. I’m incredibly lucky.  
> \- Kit Harington (The Guardian, May 2015)
> 
> I don’t get recognised. Truly. It’s- I’ll be walking with Kit Harington –plays Jon Snow, or Gwen, who plays Brienne of Tarth or something like that, and people will be like “oh can you take this picture for us?” and I’m like “Sure! Definitely I can! Sure I can!”  
> \- Emilia Clarke (Conan, Apr 2016)

_December 13 th 2011, 10am, London._

**Kit**

The white door of the flat unlocked with a resounding click.

Less than a month ago, Kit had thought the next time he’ll be here, it’ll be filled with warm smiles, excited giggles and the most perfect human being in his arms. But so much has happened this past month, Kit found himself here alone, again.

While filming in Iceland and trying to recover from what has happened, it took Kit more than a few drinks and four cigarettes to even begin to consider what to do with the flat now. He considered gifting Emilia with it anyway but he knew for a fact that if she only _might_ accept it while they were together, she will never accept it now; not from him, who was not anything more than a friend. It was hardly an appropriate gift from a friend.

Eventually, Kit came to the conclusion that the only thing he could do now was to move into it himself. It was a lovely flat anyway, with a good location; no reason to waste it by reselling it so quickly. So, Kit has told Dan, the moment he wrapped season 2 of Thrones just yesterday, that he has bought another more spacious flat and invited Dan to move in with him from their little cramped flat. Dan has hesitantly agreed when Kit told him he fully intended for Dan to do all the chores around the house. Since Dan was busy, Kit thought he’ll go ahead and furnish the house with some essential furniture himself.

Kit has thought, when he could finally manage a genuine laugh while filming, that he has finally come to terms with what happened and he has recovered from all that pain. But, pathetically, Kit knew coming alone was a mistake the moment he came face to face with the white heavy wooden door that Kit knew Emilia will love. It just looked so… artsy.

He sucked in a breath when he took in the apartment. Everything was _her_ , as he has intended when he even chose the apartment. There was the open space of the living room, the wide windows to let in enough light, the big oven she wanted, the spacious kitchen with all the drawers-

His heart stuttered painfully and instantly, it was infinitely hard to breathe.

There on the kitchen counter sat their photograph, just as he has left it.

The pang of longing he felt from the mere sight of her was enough to make him nauseous but Kit could not look away. In fact, he realised he was going towards it when he reached out and picked it up carefully in both hands. Unwittingly, he traced her jaw with a trembling thumb.

In that moment, Kit felt an overwhelming impulse to ring her. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her but he could not bear it anymore. He dug into his pocket and took out of his phone. He went to his list of contacts only to remember vaguely that he has deleted Emilia’s number in a drunken haze one night; a sad and futile attempt to forget her.

Kit rolled his eyes. Unfazed, he went straight to the call pad and punched in Emilia’s number that in his drunken state, he didn’t even realise he already knew by heart.

 _Fucking pathetic, Kit Harington._ He thought as he clicked dial and pressed the phone to his ear before he could think twice and chicken out. _There’s nothing wrong with this. Just checking up on my best mate._

He shrugged as he waited, listening to the ringing. With every ring, his anxiety grew.

 _She’s not picking up._ Kit’s stomach sank. _And why should she? People always say they will remain friends after breaking up but they never do-_

“Hello!!” she picked up and sang cheerily into the phone immediately, as usual not giving time for him to breathe.

His breath caught at the sound of her voice and he smiled; relieved and happy at the mere fact that she picked up.

 _I don’t want to lose you. If being friends means I can have you forever…_ Emilia has said to him in his hotel room in Iceland, tearing his heart from his chest. She has told him that and now, simply by picking up, she proved she meant it. _She meant it. And she loves me._ That realisation made it almost hard to breathe and he felt an impulse to laugh.

Then Kit realised how fucked up this was. In a way, Emilia has broken up with him because she loved him too much and can’t bear to lose him. _Fucking idiot… has she needed assurances?_ And in his state of shock with her suggesting a breakup, he hadn’t noticed. _We could have still been together… if I-_

“Kit?” he blinked, coming back to himself to hear her say, “are you still there?” for a moment, Kit didn’t feel like saying anything; he simply wanted to hear her voice. She giggled before she collected herself and warned, “if you’re prank calling, I swear-“

Kit grinned, “yeah, I’m here. I’m not twelve, Mil-“ _Milly. My lovely, darling Milly-_ “Clarke,”

“Sure Kit, sure,” she replied patronisingly, “how have you been? You wrapped only yesterday, didn’t you?”

As usual, she was two steps ahead in social interaction, slipping comfortably into normality and dispersing any awkwardness he thought he’d feel, before Kit could even feel it, “yeah,” Kit replied blankly, marvelling at how easy this still felt, “you?”

“Yeah me too!” she heaved a sigh of relief audibly over the phone that made him smile, “I’m so fucking knackered!”

“I’d bet, with all your shitty call times,” Kit chuckled.

“Aren’t you?”

He grinned cheekily as he said, “nah, I feel so damn rested. Like I’ve been on a holiday. I mean Iceland doesn’t have plenty of daylight for us to be filming for hours on end,”  

“Oh my god, you’re right. Fuck you,” Emilia groaned. Kit laughed, “I swear, I’m convincing David and Dan to have Daenerys bald next season or film in Iceland,”

“You’ll freeze, you’re so afraid of the cold,” Kit blurted and he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat as he realised how much he really knew her. Quickly, he continued, teasing, “but anything for that extra hour of sleep right?”

“You got that right,” Emilia sang, “where you at? Back in London?”

Kit glanced around the empty flat, “yeah…just in my new flat. What about you-“

“WHAT?”

Kit grimaced, flinching from the phone as she practically screamed, “fuck you Kit! Didn’t even think to let your best mate know you bought a new flat!” he would’ve laughed at how truly offended she sounded if not for the fact that his ear was ringing from how loud she was shouting at him, “how fucking embarrassing would it be if I turned up at your old flat-“

“You did?” Kit raised a brow.

For a moment, there was silence. It was almost unnerving but Emilia eventually muttered, “I was going to pop by later today… since I might be in the area…” _lie. She’s fucking lying about being in the area._ Kit grinned. _This girl… she really was going to come find me even if I didn’t call her…_ Kit felt nicely warmed up at that thought; that he was not forgotten, by her especially, “anyway!” Emilia said, promptly changing the topic and diverting it from her lie, “where’s your new flat at?”

Kit’s grin widened, “why?” he teased, holding out, “I’m going to reconsider letting you know the location of this one to prevent a possible uninvited visit in the future,”

He heard her scoff; _possibly the most adorable scoff I have ever heard-_ “don’t be a dick, Kit! Who will help with all your furniture buying, moving in and warm your house if you won’t even tell me where your flat is at?”

He chuckled, “everyone else who won’t show up uninvited,”

“You definitely don’t mean your mum, or your brother,”

Kit laughed. She’s right about that. His mum did have a track record of showing up uninvited when she felt like it but she’s his mum and it was in her right.

“See!” she said smugly, knowing what he was thinking without him admitting she was right.

Kit rolled his eyes, “well, I have other mates y’know!”

“Oh yeah, who?” Emilia challenged.

Successfully sparking off his competitive streak, Kit found himself blurting, “Rose.” He has told Rose about his new flat, leaving out the fact that he didn’t actually buy it for himself. In fact, Rose now knew he was down because of a break-up but he has yet to tell her who the person is and he did not intend to. When he told her about the flat, Rose has enthusiastically offered to help him with the moving and everything but Kit has turned it down, not wanting to bother her and sorely craving some time alone to rest from filming. It was hard enough to not have that time because of filming. That conversation has ended with Rose insisting she was free to help and Kit thanking her in advance and promising he will call if he needed help.

Emilia did not reply for a moment, too long to be a mere insignificant pause in a conversation and Kit realised what it sounded like. His lips parted to clarify but Emilia beat him to it, “as your best mate, I feel obligated to let you know that asking ladies to help you move into your new flat is _not_ sexy and _not_ cute, Kit,” her reply was dripping with derision.

Kit rolled his eyes, “it’s not meant to be-“

“That being said, something naughty could come out of it, especially if you have a new bed still under warranty that you have to try out,” Emilia ignored him and said cheekily.

His face warmed. _This filthy girl_ , “get your mind out of the fucking gutter, Clarke,” Kit snapped, a smile on his lips, “anyway, get your arse over here, there’s cleaning, furniture shopping and moving to be done. I’ll text you the address,”

Emilia laughed, melting his heart as easily as she did since the beginning, “so fucking bossy and to think I actually I missed you,” she scoffed.

 _I miss you too, Milly…so much._ “Shut the fuck up, Clarke,” she giggled and Kit chuckled, “see you in a bit,” _God… I can’t wait…_

“See you!” Emilia cheered and hung up. Kit paused as he lowered his phone, staring at the photo before him. It was then he felt the ache in his cheeks from smiling so much and so widely in the past few minutes, the most he has smiled in the past month.

* * *

Kit has just finished getting that layer of dust off every surface of the flat when the doorbell rang. He dropped the rag he was using into the pail and wiped his hands on his jeans as he went to the door. He pulled it open and there she was.

_She looks so lovely._

Emilia wore a pair of dark blue denim jeans with a black blouse under her ridiculously thick winter coat. Her long brunette hair tumbled over her shoulders in beautiful waves. Suddenly, Kit was acutely aware of how much of a mess he looked with wet stains on his loose jeans, his sleeves rolled haphazardly up to his elbows and his hair probably never looking more like birds’ nest than at this moment. When he finally met her eyes, he forgot whatever he was worrying about. Her bright blue gold eyes were smiling up at him, as were her lips, split into a wide grin.

“Hi,” her grin widened and her eyes disappeared entirely behind her bunched up cheeks. Kit found it hard to breathe as he looked at her; in awe under the rays of a sun that was his very own. _Was_. The thought of it still felt like shards of glass on his bare heart. She stepped closer and Kit thought his heart has stopped. She got on her tiptoes to greet him warmly and Kit mechanically leaned down, consciously reminding himself that this was culture, nothing more.  

His bearded cheeks burned where the smooth skin of her cheeks touched his. Her cheek felt so soft against his and Kit was drawn in helplessly. It could have been his imagination but he thought she lingered a moment too long as well, before she eventually pulled away. She was still grinning.

“Well? Please don’t tell me you are going to leave me at the doorstep to freeze,” Emilia’s brows shot up in feign fear and desperation.

Kit grinned but realised he already was grinning, from the very moment he laid his eyes on her, “hi,” he said before he all but grabbed her by her coat and pulled her to him for a hug; _a friendly one_. His arms wrapped around her petite form firmly and Kit’s eyes fluttered close as he felt the warmth of her. _Just a hug between mates._ He felt her hug him around his waist before she laughed, her mirth making her body tremble against his.

“I knew you missed me!” she giggled in triumph, drawing away. As usual, her cheeks and the tip of her nose were red, flushed, from the cold winds. Kit’s hands twitched to go to her face and touch and warm her cold cheeks and little nose but he stilled them, a small part of his head recognising it to be an entirely inappropriate gesture between friends.

Emilia’s massive grin ebbed away into a contained smile as she stepped out of his embrace. Kit very consciously removed his arms from around her as he rolled his eyes at her jape. He stepped back, holding the door, “come on in, slave,”

She giggled, shooting him a small smile of appreciation for holding the door open. Kit shut the door behind her as he watched her peel off her winter jacket, soaking up the warmth from the heaters he already switched on in advance, for her. He knew she felt cold easily and hated it so she often had on jumpers or winter coats. He swallowed when he realised her black blouse was entirely sleeveless, leaving her shoulders bare. Her alabaster skin was as smooth and as flawless as he remembered.

“This is lovely, Kitte-“ Emilia rounded to him as she took in the flat, “Kit,”

Kit looked at her amusedly, “Thank you, I still hate Kitten,”

She lit up like Christmas morning, “Kitten it is!” she grinned and Kit laughed, “but seriously, this is beautiful,” she wandered to the window and peered down into the streets, smiling.

 _She loves it… she really loves it._ He could tell just by watching her eyes brighten as she looked out the window, taking in the view. Kit watched her enjoy the flat sadly, having second thoughts a little too late about actually giving this flat to her, like he initially intended but he held his tongue. The last thing he wanted was to make things between them awkward. Emilia eventually tore herself from the large window and the view and Kit tore his eyes from _his_ view. He glimpsed her beam when she turned and saw the kitchen area.

“Someone’s looking to cook,” she smirked as she immediately went behind the counter, checking out the stoves, spacious counters and many drawers, “god, this is perfect…” she muttered as she peered into a compartmentalised drawer. _Of course she loves it… this is all for her. Every inch of this flat…._

“Someone’s jealous,” Kit grinned, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned his hip against the counter. Emilia rolled her eyes at him before she peered into the large oven, “you can drop by anytime you know,” Kit said, feigning nonchalance as he offered when inwardly, he hoped Emilia would take it to heart and take him up on it, “to cook, bake. I wouldn’t mind the free food once in a while-“

Emilia scoffed, “no thank you,” his stomach sank, “wouldn’t want to walk in on you and a naked woman-“

Kit choked on nothing, “more like a naked Dan,” he corrected.

Emilia blinked.

“I’m still staying with Dan,” Kit jerked his thumb back to the two bedrooms, “and we get one bedroom each now,” he grinned happily.

He watched Emilia try and fail to contain her smile, evidently looking pleased and Kit smiled with her. “That’s nice of you,” she commented, biting her lip. Kit’s eyes darted to the soft, moist pink flesh, mesmerized by the way she worried it, “to invite Dan to stay at a flat you bought,”

Kit chuckled, tearing his gaze from her lips to meet her eye, “you’ll do the same, for your mates,” she shrugged but Kit knew she would, “anyway, Dan’s busy today so… I’m stuck doing this alone-“

“Nuh uh, Kitten,” Kit chuckled at the nickname, “that’s what I’m here for,” she reached back to bunch up her hair as she glanced around, “now what can I do-“ she paused and Kit followed her gaze to see her staring at the photo on the counter. Their photo.

Kit froze. _Fuck. Busted._ He has completely forgotten about it, regarding it as part of the furniture. He watched, rooted as Emilia reached for it. She picked it up and quietly gazed down at it with a soft look in her eyes. Instantly, Kit blurted, the first thing on his mind, “happy belated birthday,” Emilia looked up and blinked, “I made it for your birthday but didn’t get to give it to you…”

Realisation dawned upon her and Kit could see it plain in her eyes. He had promised her a present and she has made him promise it won’t be too extravagant, insisting it was the thought that counts. He was supposed to give it to her the next time they met but they broke up. Kit glimpsed some tears well in her gorgeous eyes before she blinked them away and looked down at the photo, “thank you, Kitten,” she whispered, her voice thick with gratitude as she traced the photo frame with her thumbs.

 _And only you could be so appreciative over such a small, underwhelming present…_ he gazed at her fondly.

She sniffed before she looked up, her eyes dry. Placing the photo back on the counter, smiling fondly at it as she adjusted it, she turned to him, grinning, “alright, time to start work! What’s on the to-do list?”

Kit tore his gaze from her and looked around the house, mostly to collect his thoughts rather than figure out what to do. It was hard to think when he looked at her, “well… most of the cleaning is done already. I am in need of furniture,” he said.

“Obviously,” he glanced over to see her rolling her eyes.

“Don’t be a smart-arse,” Kit retorted before he continued, “and later I need to drop by my old flat to get my things,”

“Alright, great!” Emilia grinned. She dug into her bag and pulled out a little notepad and a pen, “fire away Mr Kitten, I’ll write down everything you need,”

Kit rolled his eyes at the ridiculous use of his nickname before he smirked, “a fucking large bed,”

Emilia paused and looked up. When their eyes met and she saw his smirk, they both burst into laughter. His heart skipped a beat when Emilia’s cheeks reddened prettily, “you fucking wanker!”

* * *

“So what do you think?” Kit asked, crossing his arms.

Emilia was chewing her lower lip as she listened to him relate how he thought he should position the furniture the apartment. She glanced about the space, “I think…” Kit felt absurdly nervous as he waited. For a moment, he almost forgot this was _his_ apartment and not hers; _not ours._ Emilia grinned, “it sounds great,”

Kit blinked, “really?” he blurted, gazing at her. _Her smile…_ Kit smiled. _So beautiful-_

“Fuck yeah,” she gestured, “it’s sounds banging. Oh god,” she groaned as she turned from the living room to the kitchen, “I still _love_ your kitchen the most,”

He grinned, “we can cook for dinner tonight, and by that I mean you can use the kitchen and cook and I’ll eat,” he paused when she turned to him, looking at him with a half-uncertain smile; a reminder of what they are to each other now. Kit hurriedly added, “I mean if you got nowhere else to go, we can hang out and drink and chill. We haven’t caught up in a while…” _just best mates._

Emilia seemed to get the message loud and clear and Kit’s stomach sank when the air was cleared and she smiled warmly, “I’d love that. Sounds great,” he smiled and she added, “as long as you help out to cook _and_ do the washing,” she grinned.  

Kit rolled his eyes, “fine,” _anything if you’d stay longer._

Emilia paused, seemingly surprised he has agreed. She looked at him, her smile almost entirely gone as she looked to be trying to figure him out. Feeling slightly flustered she’d see how much he just wanted her to stay and end up leaving when she figured out he still harboured inappropriate, not-merely-friends thoughts of her, Kit turned and grabbed his coat.

As he pulled it on, he glimpsed Emilia wear her coat and grab her bag. He smiled a tight smile at her as they turned to the door and slipped out to shop for furniture.

As they trudged to the bus stop to catch a bus to the nearest furniture store, Kit glanced sideways at her. She looked so small in her large thick winter coat and even more so as a cold wind blew past and she hunched deeper into her coat, shoving her hands into her pockets. Resisting an impulse to wrap an arm around her and shield her from the wind and warm her, Kit fisted his hands and pocketed them.

It was supposedly a pretty short walk to the bus stop. Kit himself normally took only five minutes. But with the strong winds and slippery concrete due to some rain showers that had both of them pulling up their hoods up, they walked slower than they usually did. And Emilia naturally walked at a slower pace than Kit did when he was alone. For Kit, he hardly minded slowing down with her. He looked over then to see her eyes trained on the concrete, carefully guiding herself around puddles and slippery spots. Another gust of bitingly cold wind came and Emilia hunched lower into her coat, a visible shiver passing through her petite form and her frown deepened.

Kit smiled an amused smile. Emilia was practically the sun but it amused him how a little cold wind and rain shower could dampen her spirit like that. Despite his amusement, the sight of her shivering cracked whatever was left of Kit’s resolve to keep up the pretence of his nonchalance at the expense of her health. He pulled his hands from his pocket, raising it to wrap around her shoulder and pull her against his side. _It has always been her spot anyway, friend or girlfriend._ His hand touched her shoulder on the other side and she turned to him-

“Oh my god,” a gasp. Kit dropped his hand from around her. They both turned to see a young lady standing before them, gaping at him, “are you Jon Snow?”

Kit blinked owlishly, shifting on his feet uncomfortably as the lady approached, “um, yeah, I guess,” he muttered. This was the first time ever he was getting recognised _and_ confronted about playing Jon Snow. Previously, he has only gotten stares at Costa Coffee or people asking him if he has watched Game of Thrones, thinking he merely shared an uncanny resemblance to Jon Snow. This woman has outright identified him and he was stunned.

“Yes he is,” Emilia chimed in definitively beside him and Kit turned to her, raising a brow. She was grinning at him happily and Kit found himself staring at her, mesmerized.

“Oh my god!” Kit turned in time to see the young lady’s eyes widened further. Kit did not think it was possible, “can I _please_ have a picture with you?” she asked, looking at him with an absurd amount of admiration.

“Sure,” Kit smiled, his hand coming up to encircle Emilia’s waist, thinking she wanted a photo with both of them; they were both in Game of Thrones after all.

However, the woman turned to Emilia and asked, “do you mind?” she held out her phone.

Kit blinked, surprised but Emilia didn’t miss a beat. She smiled warmly and took the phone, “sure,” the lady then began wedging herself at his side where Emilia stood before. Kit’s lips parted to protest and tell the ignorant lady who exactly she just handed her phone to. He was sure the lady would fall to her knees and kiss Emilia’s feet if she reacted like that to him. Daenerys was always a fan favourite, amongst both men and women if their first comic con was any indication. But when Kit made to protest, he caught Emilia’s eye over the lady’s shoulder.

Her blue gold eyes were twinkling as she shot him a wink, shaking her head subtly. Then she turned and walked a distance before them to take the photo. Kit furrowed his brows but turned to flash a smile at the lady as he felt her hand on his back, posing for the photo. He dutifully posed for it, all the while unable to shake the guilt of having Emilia take his photo with a fan of the show they were both on.

“1…2….3, smile!” Emilia said, looking into the phone. Kit, staring at her the whole time, did not miss her meaningful look as she practically commanded him to smile. He forced a smile.

 _Nothing has changed._ Kit realised as he was instantly reminded of exactly a year ago, at the airport when he was clocked by a fan of his work in War Horse. Merely a year has passed but back then, they were both new actors who did not even think the show they were working on will be well-received. He could still remember how happy she has been for him, witnessing him gain some semblance of success. Now, with the success of their first season, it was beyond Kit how she could still be happy for him when it was evident the fan did not recognise her, which always spelled bad news for actors.

“Here, have a look,” Emilia smiled as she handed the lady her phone.

Kit watched Emilia as Emilia watched the lady examine the photo, “could you take another one please? Like a close-up from waist up,” the lady asked. 

Kit rolled his eyes and was about to tell the lady they were in a rush when Emilia took the phone, smiling, “definitely I can,”

“Thanks!” the lady chimed, “wow your hair is so perfect,” he heard her say in awe. As she wedged herself closer to his side, her shoulder bumped uncomfortably with his, owing to their similar height and Kit straightened as much as he can. Emilia glanced between them for a moment, her smile faltering just barely but he noticed. _She never could hide how she felt._ Kit didn’t have to force a smile this time. An amused smile spread over his lips as he was reminded of what they spoke of a year back.

_“You and Jon Snow are the kind of guy that girls will swoon over. It will be a mob,” Emilia teased, “I can see it already,”_

_“Let’s hope not,” Kit told her airily, slinging his arm across her shoulder and pulling her to him, “wouldn’t want you to get jealous over all the girls I’ll have my arms around in those photos,” he grinned._

_She matched his grin with her own, her eyes disappearing as she giggled, “don’t worry, I’ll be the one taking those photos and keeping an eye on where your arms land,”_

After the picture was taken and the lady was walking away, glancing back to him, they turned to the other. When their eyes met, Emilia burst into giggles and Kit chuckled at the sound of it. They continued towards the bus stop with Emilia still laughing at his side.

“What’s so funny?” Kit eventually asked, rolling his eyes at how tickled she was.

She contained her laughter with much difficulty before she replied, snickering, “she’s so in love with you and your _luscious locks_ ,” Emilia said, reaching up to his hair.

Kit smirked, straightening out of her touch, “what’s not to love?”

Without missing a beat, Emilia retorted, “your overly large ego, that’s what,” she pouted as she dropped her hand, unable to reach his hair now that he decided not to let her.

Kit winced, “ouch,” he touched his chest, “now you’ve gone and wounded it,”

She patted his chest over his hand and snorted, “I’m sure it’ll recover in no time at all,”

Kit rolled his eyes and asked, “why did you not tell the lady you’re on the show too?”

Emilia blinked before she shrugged, smiling, “no reason to. Work is work and while I’m not at work, I like my privacy. Besides, it’s probably more to do with the wig than them not noticing or remembering Daenerys,” she grinned. Kit paused. Emilia’s evidently much more confident with her performance of Daenerys now than before comic con and Kit could not help the pride that blossomed in his chest for her.

He smiled, nodding, respecting her decision. Kit teased then, “alright, if you prefer taking my photos with fans who are obviously swooning over me,”

Emilia rolled her eyes before she ignored him and turned to flag the approaching bus.

* * *

“Um Kitten, it says here you should stir in the eggs into the melted butter before the flour and all,” Emilia pointed to the cookbook.

Kit froze, the bowl of cocoa, flour, salt and baking powder already half poured into the saucepan of melted butter. Emilia’s lips twitched up and her eyes sparkled with amusement. Kit shrugged, “ah fuck it,” he dumped the lot into the butter carelessly.

Unexpectedly, the flour caught on the air and flew back up to him. He withdrew, wrinkling his nose as he held his breath. Emilia giggled loudly.

“Oh shut up Clarke, focus on our dinner please,” Kit snapped.

Emilia’s giggles only intensified. She was making grilled steak for their dinner since they bought 2 bottles of wine while they shopped for groceries to make dinner.

“I should be doing dinner and you dessert,” he complained, annoyed. Kit honestly felt he could hold his own in terms of cooking, especially making a mean steak over a barbeque and that slow-cooked rack of lamb that he has perfected over the years. But somehow, he ended up being on dessert duty, tasked to bake, while Emilia did dinner.

Emilia loved baking as much as she loved cooking and Kit felt she was just taking the piss out of him by putting him on dessert duty, enjoying seeing him scramble about while he baked, “stop whining Kitten,” Emilia said sharply and in a no-nonsense tone but Kit could hear the amusement in her voice. If it were other people, Kit would snap back at them but Emilia has always held a special privilege to scold him into shape; right there below his mum. She made him better.

So instead, Kit turned to glare at her. Kit paused and froze when she was closer than he thought, gazing up at him with those large and somehow darker blue-gold eyes, “you got something on your…” Emilia giggled as she reached up a hand to his face and Kit held still, more unable to move than trying not to move.

So close to her, Kit could see the little scar on her skin, the only thing that marred it, between her brows. His eyes then traced the contours of her lovely face, taking in the crinkles at the edges of her eyes as she giggled, the slight flush of her bunched up cheeks and the curve of a bright smile on her full pink lips. She looked happy and Kit’s heart skipped a beat when he felt her joy as his own. He didn’t know what he was going to say but his lips parted on their own accord, “Milly-“

Emilia dropped her hand and her eyes met his curiously.

“I-“ _I love you._ It was on the tip of his tongue but Kit knew he couldn’t. Unless he wanted her to turn tail and run. Him inciting such an uncharacteristically solemn moment was usually enough to make her suspicious and now, probably, fearful. The thought of her feeling uncomfortable around him was enough to make him panic and Kit quickly began to rack him brain to say something to disperse the solemn atmosphere.

Before he could say anything, to his surprise, Emilia burst out into fits of loud laughter, startling him. In a blink of an eye, she took off from his side and promptly stood behind the counter.

Kit frowned in puzzlement. Emilia glanced to his face before she giggled uncontrollably again, guilt, amusement and thrill flashing across her face all at once. Kit instantly knew he was being pranked. He grabbed the cleaver off the board and looked at his face in the reflection on the flat side, “you look gorgeous, Kitten,” he ignored Emilia giggling behind him as he took in the thick layer of white flour smeared over his nose, his cheek and his moustache.

He turned to her, glowering; a mixture of annoyance and some anger. But at the sight of her giggling and clutching her middle as if the sight of him was the funniest thing ever, he felt all traces of his anger abate along with the annoyance. Unwittingly, he gazed at her fondly as she quelled her giggles, only to burst into fresh fits of laughter at the sight of him. Trying to keep the glower on his face with great difficulty, he scowled half-heartedly.

She was beginning to tear from mirth and Kit wanted so badly to close the distance between them and hug her to him as she giggled. Truthfully, he missed feeling her body tremble with mirth against his, he missed having the right to kiss her face as she laughed to prolong her happiness. _At least I can still look at you. At least I can still make you laugh._ Grinning, he reached for the bag of flour beside him and took a handful of flour subtly. Glancing to her, Emilia seemed to have failed to notice his little gesture as she wiped her tears away.

Kit chuckled as he approached her. Instantly, Emilia perked up and stared at him cautiously. She stepped back, “what are you doing?” she glanced over him suspiciously. _Smart gal._

He mocked a glare at her as he pointed to his face with his free hand, “you’re cleaning this up, right now,”

“No I’m not,” Emilia chortled, backing away.

“Yes you are,” Kit growled. She giggled and Kit struggled to keep his face straight.

Glancing to him and spotting his serious, unamused expression, Emilia paused. She chewed her lower lip endearingly and Kit glanced to it. He always loved it when she did that. Guilt flashed over her softening face and she reached for some tissues. Kit pursed his lips against a triumphant grin as Emilia rounded the counter and came to him.

She then paused just out of arms’ length, regarding him cautiously, “taking revenge is a petty, immature and painfully ungentlemanly move, Kitten,” Emilia said.

“Now you’re being paranoid,” He rolled his eyes before he raised his brow as he pointed at his own face, “but this is very mature and ladylike of you, Clarke,”

Emilia giggled, “sorry,” she took a step to him, now within arm’s reach and without hesitation, Kit flung the handful of flour at her face.

Emilia shrieked as Kit took off. He clutched his stomach and laughed uncontrollably as he saw that he has nailed her straight in the face. His handful of flour, owing to his large hand and her little face, turned all of her face white and practically drowned her in flour.

She spluttered and coughed, rubbing her eyes and nose. He paused when he saw her groping the counter to get to the sink. For a moment, Kit felt a pang of guilt but Emilia screeched then, “Christopher Catesby Harington, you fucking git!”

He laughed but rounded the counter nonetheless as Emilia failed to locate the sink. He took her hand and brought her to it. All the while, Emilia spewed vulgarities that a lady her age shouldn’t know, much less utter, at him. Kit however, was unfazed and only amused as he ignored her, allowing her to let out the pain of her bruised ego. He grabbed a napkin by the sink and wiped her eyes with them.

She blinked hard before opening them and Kit sniggered. Absurdly, she looked absolutely adorable with her face covered in flour and looking up at him with her large blue eyes. Until she spat, “fuck you Kitten,”

Kit sniggered, pursing his lips unsuccessfully against a smile, “sorry, now we’re even,” he shrugged, sniggering again at the sight of her, “truce?”

Emilia glared at him before she glanced over his still vandalised face. Kit watched her angrily pursed lips slowly but surely smooth out before curving up into a smile. She looked to be considering before she shrugged and said, “for now,”

He chuckled and nodded. He lifted the napkin to her face and gently began wiping the flour away as Emilia brought the tissue she still held to his face. Eventually, when their amusement faded and the flour on their faces were mostly dusted away with napkins and fingers, Kit found his fingers lingered on her face.

He did not drop his hand from her even as the spot on her face that the pad of his thumb gently brushed was clean of flour. Unwittingly, he traced her face with just the tips of his fingers as if he touched her any harder, she’d break, or worse, withdraw from him. His eyes darted to hers from watching his fingers touch her. Emilia was already gazing at him.

In that moment, Kit could not, for the life of him, remember why they were no longer together. No reason felt strong enough to tear him from her, to keep them apart. At that thought, he got bolder and cupped her cheek. His breath hitched when Emilia’s eyes fluttered close, leaning into his touch but before Kit could really confirmed it happened, she withdrew.

“Kit,” Emilia muttered a protest but Kit could hear the conflict in her voice; how half-hearted her protest was and his touch followed her. He found the soft skin of her warm cheek again. Emilia’s brows rose in distress and a hand came up to his wrist, as if to pull his hand from her face but she doesn’t, not really. Her little warm hand closed around his wrist and tugged weakly; telling of how much she _wanted_ his touch rather than the opposite, rather than the pretence she was putting up.

“Milly,” he whispered; a plea, to allow this, to _come back_. Emilia’s eyes darted to his and she stopped tugging at his wrist. His heart skipped a beat when he felt her fingers tentatively caress the inside of his wrist, over his pulse. He mirrored her small smile and his other hand came up to cradle her face gently. She looked so little and precious in that moment. Kit moistened his lips as his gaze fell to hers. He leaned in, his lips trembling in anticipation.

The doorbell rang.

Startled, they flew apart as if scalded. Kit glanced to the closed door, then to Emilia. Her eyes were wide as she averted his gaze, her jaw tensed, “I-I’ll get that,” Kit managed and Emilia nodded hastily, turning back to the counter by the stove where she was preparing dinner. He turned, cursing whoever was at the door. Rubbing his face with his hands, he pulled the door open.

It was the mattress delivery they have ordered earlier today. Kit has completely forgotten about it. He forced a smile at the man and opened the door wider to let them enter with the mattress, “the mattress,” Kit informed Emilia. She glanced back to him and nodded stiffly before turning her back to him. A lump formed in Kit’s throat and made it hard to breathe. _What have the two of us become?_

“Thank you,” Kit smiled as he handed the delivery man the signed form and saw him to the door. As he closed the door, Kit slowly came to the stove, watching Emilia. She glanced to him once and a beat passed and- _did she just take a breath?_ Before she turned to him fully, a grin on her face.

“How was the mattress?” she asked. _Not talking about it, are we?_ Kit glanced down to see her searing the steak expertly. It smelled amazing and Kit’s stomach rumbled loudly. They both paused and Emilia laughed, “you hardly did any work!”

“Hey! I did loads!” he objected.

“Like the dessert? For example,” Emilia asked curtly, a brow raised but her eyes were twinkling in amusement.

Kit huffed and turned from her, grumbling under his breath about being reduced to being a slave as he completed the already fucked up dessert. Just as he popped the brownies into the oven, Emilia did her finishing touch on their dinner.

She sang a little melody as she turned with a flourish, gesturing dramatically to the two perfectly set up plate of steak, roasted potatoes and asparagus. In truth, he was impressed and at the sight of the food, his mouth watered more than it already did, at the smell. Hiding how good he thought her food looked to avoid having to put up with a gloating Emilia for the rest of the evening, Kit turned to her with a deaden stare, “well? Set up the table-“

It was then it occurred to Kit they didn’t even have a table yet. They didn’t even have chairs for that matter. They were due to be delivered only tomorrow. The pots, pans, plates and cutleries were only here because they decided against having it delivered and rather lugged them back in a taxi.

“Fuck,” Kit muttered.

Emilia laughed, “we’ll eat at the counter, Kitten,” she waved it off.

“We don’t even have chairs-“

“We’ll eat standing up, it’s like working out while eating! Just perfect,” she grinned and swept past him to grab the cutleries from the drawer. Kit watched her go about the kitchen, humming happily to herself and not for the first time today, his chest ached at how much like a couple they looked; one who was moving in together and slowly figuring out the details of their home. They’d already have more than one salesperson at the furniture store mistake them for a married couple. As she went passed him, with the cutlery and wine glass in her hands, Kit fisted his hands, refraining with great difficulty from wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him.

He just knew she’d giggle then, the loveliest sound ever and they would share a sweet, and hopefully prolonged kiss-

“Grab the wine?” he blinked to see Emilia, with her back to him, laying out the cutlery on the counter. He did as she asked and opened it. As he stood opposite her on the other side of the counter, he poured the wine. Emilia watched the wine that she chose at the store, fill her glass with an eager smile and a twinkle in her eyes and Kit chuckled, shaking his head. They did always love their alcohol.

She picked up their wine glass for a toast then and Kit mirrored her, asking, “what are we toasting to?”

Emilia chewed her lip in consideration, catching his gaze, before she grinned, “how much the fans love you,”

Knowing she was referring to earlier in the day when a fan asked to have her picture taken with him, Kit smiled weakly, “they probably aren’t big fans, seeing as they didn’t even recognise _Daenerys fucking Targaryen_ ,”

Emilia laughed, “it’s hardly their fault,” she tugged on a stray brown lock, “I barely recognise myself as Dany without the wig,” she giggled.

 _I’d recognise you anywhere._ Kit gazed across her face; the one he has spent hours through the break of dawn gazing at and memorising for the past one year. At this point, Kit thought he probably knew her face better than he knew anyone else’s, perhaps even his own, “let’s toast to completing season 2,” Kit suggested, successfully catching himself before he stared too long and made it awkward. _You no longer have the right to._

She beamed, “yes!” their glasses clinked together melodiously, “and may it be even better than season 1 was!” Kit grinned, nodding before they sipped at their wine. With that, they dug into their steak, exchanging on-set stories from season 2; Kit telling her about their harrowing experience on the lake which frozen over and Emilia complaining about how hot and grimy it was in the desert. They were so engrossed in talking and listening, they only barely managed to save their dessert from burning in the oven.

As the night grew darker, both of them went through both bottles of wine quickly over dinner and popped open another that Kit bought to share with Dan when they moved in. In a tipsy daze, Kit couldn’t for the life of him conjure a reason not to open another bottle. With his belly full of food and mostly alcohol, their conversations became clumsy and barely coherent. There was more laughter and giggles than actual conversation. The alcohol has evidently loosened Emilia’s tongue, with her rambling on and on for the past 2 minutes about how much her feet had hurt while filming in those hard sole boots all day.

For Kit, amidst the sound of her giggles, he found his eyes wandering and lingering on her lips more than they should. His body was feeling warmer and his face felt utterly flushed as he glimpsed her tongue within the depths of her moist mouth, behind her soft pink lips. From experience, he knew how warm her mouth would be, how sweet she’d taste, how it’d feel around his cock-

A lump formed in Kit’s throat, making it hard for him to breathe. He swallowed against it futilely.

He blinked out of the thoughts his mind seemed to be trapped within when Emilia turned from the counter and her lips disappeared from his view. She teetered as she made her way to the sink and Kit flew around the counter, just as she stumbled to the side. His arms automatically came up to catch her against him.

Emilia yelped, half in fear, half in surprise. Her fingers dug into his arms as she steadied herself against him, “hammered already?” Kit teased.

“Shut the fuck up,” she giggled up at him, her eyes barely visible behind her flushed, bunched up cheeks and Kit’s smart retort was stolen along with his breath. Her smile faded as she teetered, leaning heavily into him unexpectedly. Kit stumbled back, just able to catch both of them. She laughed, “you’re not doing so well yourself, Kitten,”  

He laughed with her as mirth bubbled from his nicely warm middle. It has been so long since he felt so light, so simply happy, Kit has almost forgotten there was a time he had always felt this way. He fell sombre as he was suddenly aware of how her petite frame was shaking against him, in his arms, as she shook with mirth. Kit felt his heart skip a beat as her skin seared him where they touched through their clothes, their bodies pressed against the other. An impulse to feel her, skin to skin, filled him and Kit’s hands trembled against the urge to do whatever it took to be closer to her.

Her laughter faded away when she realised that he was not laughing along with her. She met his gaze with wide puzzled eyes, bright pools of blue. Kit glanced between them, searching for the gold he knew was there. Her fingers on his arm loosened and a flash of fear filled him that she’d let him go and leave, or worse, push him away. But the way her eyes softened as they held his and the way her body sagged against him, so trusting, told Kit she wouldn’t.

He glanced down to her lips to see them already parted as she drew shallow breaths through them. His breath hitched and quickened at the sight of her lips so close, within his reach and attainable. It didn’t occur to Kit he was closing the gap between their lips until he felt, rather than heard, her breathing begin to quicken. _Emilia._ Kit had no idea if he whispered it or merely thought it before their lips met in an almost frenzied hunger for the other.

His heart sang as their lips and tongue danced with the other. He moaned as her fingers gently carded through his hair, her fingertips massaging his scalp. Her other hand brushed his cheek, cupping him over his beard and he pushed into her touch. His arms automatically pulled her closer to him, holding her firmly to him but it didn’t feel close enough; hardly. He reluctantly withdrew his arms from around her as his hands busied itself with her clothes.

As Kit pulled aside her black blouse to reveal an expanse of perfect alabaster skin underneath, he whimpered against her lips, feeling conflicted between continuing to kiss her and breaking it to _look at her_. Eventually, unsatisfied with merely a glimpse of her, Kit tore his lips from hers to gaze down at her. Her lovely breasts were nestled in a simple black brassiere that Kit recognised to be her favourite one for its comfort. _She never did liked wearing her bra, opting to go without if she could._ As he has had the honour to multiple times, Kit’s practiced fingers unclasped it, letting it fall while his hand gently cupped a bare breast.

He tweaked the peak, watching it harden. Goose pimples erupted over her skin as Emilia moaned, pushing herself into his palm. Kit tenderly held her, revelling in the feel of her in his palm, but Emilia was having none of it. Her small hand covered his, guiding him to knead her firmly as her other hand held the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Kit took her lip gently between his. He gasped when she bit him viciously before licking him, slow and deliberately, where she wounded him.

Kit felt almost giddy from such a simple but painfully sensual act as a huge rush of blood left his head in favour of his cock. He hissed, choking over a groan as she palmed and squeezed him through his jeans before proceeding to unbuckle his belt. By the time Kit thought to glance down to watch her work, he felt her soft hand draw him; hard, hot and so sensitive it was almost painful, from the confines of his jeans.

“Mil-“

She stroked him firmly; once, twice and thrice. Kit threw his head back. Her hand felt so good around him, holding him, squeezing him firmly just the way he liked it and her fingers lingering and tracing the tip before plunging back to the base, just the way he liked it. _She knew him best-_

Without preamble, Emilia dropped to her knees and licked him firmly over the red and swollen tip. He jolted, twitching, as pleasure shot up his spine. His knees buckled and Kit staggered back unwittingly, coming up heavily against the counter as she kissed him over the head, the tip of her tongue brushing the base of the head before teasing the small slit. His hands clutched the counter as he moaned loudly towards the ceiling of the apartment.

She laughed and with herculean effort, Kit willed himself to look at her. He blinked, clearing his vision to see her smirking up at him. _Milly… you’ll be the death of me-_ She took him in her mouth without hesitation. Starburst exploded across his eyes and it was almost impossible to breathe. Gently massaging his balls as she swallowed his length again and again, Emilia proceeded to yank down his pants and jeans that he has always loathed wearing. She then gently stroked his thighs, almost coaxing his release. He was momentarily blinded as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and deafened as blood roared in his ears while she worked relentlessly, reducing him to a boneless mass against the counter, struggling to remain standing.

As his groin tightened, telling of his impending release, Kit bit his tongue so hard he tasted a metallic tang. With an effortful groan to delay a release that he knew would do little to dampen his desire of her, Kit drew himself from her and lowered himself to kiss her tenderly. His body trembled in anticipation to be with her again; to make love to her; to feel complete once more but Emilia was having none of it.

She fisted his shirt firmly with both her hands, holding him hunched over her as she kissed him, hard. Her tongue came to meet his and he could taste himself, “Kit,” his name was ripped from her throat in a guttural moan that reverberated against his lips and his eyes flew open, his entire body poised to satisfy her every demand, “fuck me,” she whispered.

Kit’s mind could not seem to fully comprehend what she was saying, not as well as his body instantly could. He felt a twitch at her words and she glanced to his groin. Her tongue darted out and over her lower lip and his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head but she met his eyes then and there simply wasn’t anywhere else he could look.

“Fuck me, hard,” Emilia told him thickly.

Crouching before her, he hook his arms under her leg and she went, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. With her in his arms, Kit stood. He staggered as a wave of giddiness came over him; courtesy of the alcohol or anticipation of her, Kit wasn’t sure. Emilia giggled and Kit looked to her. He could only smile at the sight, wanting to pepper her skin with kisses. _How could she deserve anything but love?_

He brought her to his bedroom, filled with nothing but a brand new mattress they have chosen together and bought today. Kit recalled her joke about trying the mattress out while it was still under warranty and he chuckled as he came to it. Gently lowering her onto her back on it, Kit leaned over to kiss her tenderly on her collarbone. His lips lingered lovingly on her skin. Then he felt her hands on his shoulder, shoving him away, “no,” she snapped firmly and Kit stumbled back, alarmed and puzzled for her eyes were burning with look that left no question as to what she wanted; him.

 _Fuck me._ Kit could hear her say as she watched him in semi-darkness. _None of that… she want to fuck… not make love._

Feeling the intense heat of desire for her low in his abdomen, Kit rushed towards her and she met him halfway. Amidst frenzied and bruising kisses, Kit was mildly aware of her ripping apart his shirt, popping the last few buttons when she failed to release them before she leaned up, kissing him on his neck so hard he was sure she’d left her mark. The pain of it, along with the feel of her lips on his skin, made him moan and grind his hard length unwittingly against her.

Her moan joined his, her hips coming up to meet him. He growled in frustration as he only found the fabric of her jeans between her legs. Withdrawing, he hastily removed her jeans, yanking on them roughly. With them, she was dragged to the edge of the bed.

_Fuck me. Hard._

His fingers delved between her legs and skimmed over her core to find her soaked.

_Kit._

He met her eyes to see her already looking at him with the same look in her eyes. Positioning himself, he buried himself in her with a firm thrust, jostling her roughly. She cried out and in that moment, the sheer relief he felt of having been completed was marred by a pang of fear that he has hurt her. Kit froze, horrified of what he did, “no, don’t stop,” she whimpered, her body writhing with pleasure of the fullness. She felt so tight around his hard swollen length, it was almost painful.

When he was sure she was fine, Kit clutched her hip firmly with one hand while the other held her thigh, holding her in place, as he thrusted into her roughly. With her legs locked around his waist, her hips coming up to meet him, every thrust brought the tip of him firmly against the back of her. The sensation, although jarring, was dizzyingly pleasurable.

Kit felt his resolve to refrain from kissing her whatsoever crumble as he gazed down at her. Emilia was a mess of moans, whimpers, cries, flailing and trembling limbs and a helplessly writhing body underneath him and Kit was wanted nothing more than to cradle her body against his. He wanted to feel the reverberations of her moans against his body, her every tremor from the pleasure his body brought to hers. He wanted to take her hands, from blindly grasping for that non-existent purchase on the bare mattress, and lace her fingers with his. He wanted to be truly _with her_ as she fell from her peak.

He reached for her hand as he buried himself roughly once more. Seeing her jostled so brutally went against every fibre of his being that wanted to protect her, cradle her and love her as if she was the most precious and fragile thing. His fingers brushed her hand but before he could hold it, Emilia shifted away. Her eyes flew open, leaving no question to him if she felt it. He met her eyes and for a moment, he glimpsed her eyes soften before they turned to stone; sapphires in the darkness. She pulled away from him and Kit was bewildered momentarily. That is until she, with great difficulty on trembling limbs, got on her hands and knees before him.

Kit teetered at the sight before he adjusted himself. _Emilia…_ He ran his palm over the expanse of her back, marvelling at the perfection beneath his hand before he entered her, suddenly and roughly. He groaned at how wet she was, her arousal trailing down her legs and his with every thrust. Her deep, loud moans urged him on; encouraging his every violent thrust that he knew would make it hard for both of them to walk tomorrow. He quickened his pace as he approached his release, knowing she wouldn’t want him to slow down.

As she began to shake visibly, Kit leaned over her and closed his eyes, allowing himself and her this short moment of intimacy which she seemed to vehemently disallow. He felt a twinge of guilt for doing this when she was so vulnerable and wouldn’t be able to object but when every inch of his skin was against the skin of her back, Kit couldn’t find it in himself to care. He brushed a kiss between her shoulders blades, nuzzling her skin as he loved her in those final moments.

His last thrust sent her forward into the mattress and he followed her, more unable to part from her than unwilling. With his tip colliding almost painfully into her cervix, he spilled copiously into her. Emilia cried her release then. She shook violently beneath him as Kit struggled to keep his weight off her. Feeling her body unravel beneath his, Kit leaned on one arm and wrapped the other around her middle, holding her to him.  

She whimpered into the mattress as the last tremors faded away. Kit smiled. _My darling Milly…_ He nosed away her hair from the nape of her neck before he pressed a kiss to it, inhaling her scent greedily. _I love you-_

Emilia tensed beneath him uncharacteristically; not what Kit was used to post-coital with her. She shifted weakly and Kit knew he could keep her here if he wanted to. At this time, Emilia would hardly be able to walk much less shove him off, as she did before. A part of Kit wanted to be selfish, he wanted to pepper her with kisses and whisper sweet words of love to her even if she did not want to hear them. But a larger part of him, the part that loved her, willed him to put himself second and roll off of her. And Kit did, pulling his soft moist cock from her as he did.

Kit gazed sideways at her as Emilia pointedly avoided his eyes, glancing away from him as she recovered; just enough probably to run away or at least scoot further from him. _I love you._ Kit mouthed to the back of her head that he very much wanted to press a kiss to and bury his nose into. He sagged in sheer fatigue and defeat against the mattress as he gazed at her, resigned to watch her leave again.

As their breathing evened out, Emilia shifted and Kit closed his eyes momentarily, trying to stem the tears that threatened to spill at her imminent departure. To his surprise, she turned to him. Her full lips were swollen, bruised from his kisses and her hair dishevelled. She looked beautiful. In her eyes, Kit thought he saw a spark of mirth in them but he couldn’t be sure in the dark. He glanced down to her lips as she pursed them. She scooted closer. Kit held his breath as Emilia dipped her head and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips; over his little birthmark.

_Her eyes smiled with her lips as he kissed her. Her thumb then lingered on the tip of his lower lip, a little to the right. She said quietly then, “you have a little… birthmark here,” she grinned, her eyes twinkling with amusement._

_Kit knew it and he had spent some years hating it. It looked like an annoying mole up-close and a smudge of dirt a little distance away. But he grew out of feeling self-conscious about it, seeing as it was never going away anyway, and he realised no one ever noticed; not his best mates, not the girls he slept with, not even his previous girlfriends. Until Emilia. He admitted though, none of the girls have really looked at him like she did; with that look in their eyes or with such concentration and attention. Kit shifted uncomfortably and bit his lip._

_Emilia giggled and righted his lips from his teeth before she tenderly took his lower lip between hers, kissing him right over it, “I love it,” she murmured against her lips._

_Kit froze in surprise as she playfully nibbled his lip. He opened his eyes and pulled back, “you do?”_

_She grinned, nodding, “I do,” she whispered._

“Thanks,” she whispered, pulling out of his reverie. _For a good fuck._ Kit could hear what she didn’t have to say. The sting of how casual her words sounded was soothed by her sweet kiss, just barely. Kit took a subtle breath, steeling himself to be casual about this or risk having her run for the hills. The smell of her arousal and their shag was still heavy in the room and Kit felt his softened member begin to stir. _Fucking wanker,_ she used to call him, and probably still would, as she did this morning.

Hiding a grimace, Kit forced a mischievous smirk onto his face as he rolled onto his side and slung an arm over her bare back, “no problem. What are best mates for?”

“Fucking, apparently,” Emilia laughed before she grasped his hand and shove it off her playfully, “and hands off the merchandise, Harington,” she turned from him then and sat up. _Where are you going-_ “gotta wash up, wouldn’t want to stain your new mattress so soon. Always a fucking box of tissues…” Emilia chuckled but Kit couldn’t find it in himself to chuckle at her insinuation of his massive load, which he only got from abstinence due to a lack of mood in her absence. _Fuck the mattress… stay here with me._ Kit watched sullenly as Emilia got up.

She glanced back to him when he did not reply and in the dim moonlight that shone into the room from the window, Kit could have sworn he saw a glistening tear roll down her cheek. But before he could catch her and stop her from leaving, she hurriedly left for the loo, closing the door firmly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few references to the First Verse found in this chapter (i.e. homecoming chapter and guilt chapter). 
> 
> Alright, I am so sorry for the long wait! An extra lengthy chapter for the wait! Hope you guys enjoyed it!  
> Just a heads-up, I am NOT giving up on this story; I'm simply slower in writing because I have a new job and am working ungodly long hours. So thank you if you are still here and thank you for being patient! 
> 
> For those wondering, yes, at the end of the chapter, Emilia is totally drunk if you can't tell from the way she was behaving before drinking and after.


	7. Rolling Stones Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We were just sort of being very affectionate.  
> \- Lena Headey (Rolling Stone, March 30, 2012). 
> 
> Rolling stones shoot:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgwuSuAUPJg

_March 21 st 2012, 12pm, Los Angeles_

**Kit**

His heart was hammering against his chest a mile a minute as he lay on his back in bed, panting heavily. His skin was heated and clammy against the cool sheets. His body was still trembling uncontrollably from his last incredibly intense orgasm as his fingers fumbled for the duvet to tug over both of them. A giggle sounded from just beside his head and his heart sped up. _Merely an aftershock of such a mindblowing fuck is all_.

He glanced to his side and his ragged breaths stilled entirely.

Emilia lay beside him, on her back. Her eyes were wide and staring up at the ceiling. Her curved lips were parted as she panted. Her face was flushed a rosy colour, as were her ears. Kit followed the rosy flush to her rapidly rising and falling chest. Unwittingly, his eyes dropped to her bare breasts. A lump formed in his throat as he took in the hardened peaks of them and the goosebumps that has formed around them.

Stemming an urge to kiss them thoroughly, knowing she’d writhe and moan in the sweetest way, he tore his gaze from them to meet her eyes. Thankfully, she was still staring at the ceiling, looking to still be trying to catch her breath.

“What’s funny?” he managed to croak through his parched, unused throat. He has not spoken for the past half hour; his mind not above making guttural, animalistic moans and groans.

Emilia turned to him and he released a breath he didn’t realise he has been holding in a soft sigh. In the light that filtered through the balcony door, the gold in her eyes looked incredibly stark, “nothing,” she shrugged, whispering. She then flashed him a quick smile before sitting up. Kit didn’t need to watch her to know she was going for a shower before their photoshoot later today. Nonetheless, his eyes followed her naked body as she sat up from the bed, pausing to establish her footing before she rose tentatively. Kit chuckled softly at her continued ineptness in walking after sex and Emilia turned, mocking a glare at him, “shut the fuck up,”

He raised his hands in surrender, folding his lips in as a show of keeping mum. Emilia laughed before her eyes darted down. Kit startled and tensed when she sat down and took his softening, sensitive cock in hand. He felt a sharp, almost eager, twitch at her tender touch but could only stare as she removed the condom gently. With that in hand, she stood, the tips of her fingers lingering on and trailing the inside of his thigh in the most tantalizing way. Kit stared after her, watching the graceful sway of her hips and her round bottom as she entered the bathroom, closing the door. _But not locking. Never locking it. Her little wordless invitation, the filthy girl._

This was the first time they have ever used a condom and only because Emilia managed to tell him, or rather groan out, that she hasn’t been keeping up with her pills just as they were frantically ridding the other of clothes. Kit has had to search for it, having never had a need for it till now. The previous times, Emilia has simply kept up with her pills or on other occasions, took plan B pills the morning after. Now however, with Emilia’s increasingly busy schedule that caused her to neglect taking her pills in the first place, Kit supposed she didn’t want to take that risk.

And rightfully so. They were scheduled for a Rolling Stones photoshoot in a little under two hours. Kit has been getting ready for it when the doorbell to his hotel room rang. He has opened the door thinking it was the room service lunch he ordered. Instead, his hunger for lunch was completely replaced by another sort of hunger entirely as her intent of coming to him first thing after she landed became clear. 

Kit hasn’t met Emilia since their photoshoot with Entertainment Weekly last week. After which, Kit has flown off to Canada as his new movie, the Seventh Son, began production. He has only just managed to arrange his schedule around filming to come down for this photoshoot with Rolling Stones. And he was now glad he did. Kit could hear the water running and he was sorely tempted to join her. But the thought that they would both be late for the photoshoot, and attract more awkward teasing from Alfie, stopped him.

Instead, Kit reached for his phone to distract himself by keeping an eye out for updates on the transport that will bring them out into the field later. Opening his lists of chats, Kit felt a pang of guilt as he noticed the texts from Rose he has yet to reply. Since Season 2 stopped filming, he has kept contact with Rose. They have met up a couple of times when Rose came to London and it was always a good chat but mostly they kept in contact through constant texting. She was a much better texter than he was, almost replying instantly and never forgetting to reply.

The more time he spent with Rose and the more he got to know her, he has come to realise just how sweet and lovely a girl she really is; so unconditionally kind and helpful. She was also unlike most girls he knew in the industry in that she was fundamentally boyish; opting for sneakers as opposed to flats or heels and like him, she spent her childhood enjoying a good ninja turtle or power ranger play acting out in the open with her brothers. That made Kit comfortable around her as opposed to trying to impress her. Why should he when she wasn’t trying to impress him and was decked out in her adidas and joggers? Between that and their very similar sense of humour, easily, they got on.

On hindsight, admittedly, the filming of season two, marred by the breakup with Emilia, was made slightly better with his newfound friendship with Rose. She was the one who dared to sit next to him when he was shooting glares at anyone who so much as thought to approach. She was the one who dragged him from his room and from wallowing in self-pity to play ping pong downstairs or to see the sights of Iceland. Kit couldn’t for the life of him figured out why Rose cared so much for she had no reason to do what she did for him.  

Once, on one such night that found them under the Northern lights, staring wide-eyed in awe, Kit has glanced to his side at Rose, feeling infinitely glad to have her there with him. He was glad he wasn’t alone. She made sure he didn’t sink too deep in a very characteristic sort of sorrow. He had wondered for the first time then; would he fall in love with Rose instead if he had met her first, before Emilia? He wondered how they’d be like if he loved her, how he’d be like if they were together. It’ll be different for sure but Kit wasn’t sure if it will be a good kind of different; he liked how he is with Emilia, so confident, so unconditionally giving and so filled with love for others and for himself.

But Kit did not need to wonder about one thing: whether he’d fall in love with Emilia when he meet her after he has loved Rose. For he will, wholeheartedly.  

Kit began typing a reply to Rose’s message in which she related to him her day-out with her siblings. But before he could finish it, an email from his agent popped up on screen. The subject of it was labelled ‘EW GoT photoshoot photos’. It was the photoshoot he did with Emilia, Lena, Peter and Nikolaj last week. Curious, Kit opened the email. It was littered with attachments and Kit downloaded the group photo eagerly.  

Watching it download, he felt his stomach tighten in anticipation as he glimpsed the blurred outline of him and Emilia. He cancelled the pending downloads and downloaded those of him and Emilia first. His heart skipped a beat when the first photo was successfully downloaded. He made to open it but paused when the door to the loo opened. He glanced past his phone to see Emilia emerging from her shower in nothing but a towel.

He stared, frozen as he took in the contours of her bare shoulders and the expanse of smooth alabaster skin on her neck and chest; surely looking like a man starved. Her brown hair was in wet tendrils that tumbled down her back and some over her shoulder. Kit swallowed in vain as his eyes fell to the swell of her breasts and the curve of her waist and hips under the towel.

“Kitten!” Emilia sighed, exasperated, “get out of bed, we’re going to be late,”

Kit blinked before finally meeting her eyes with an amused stare, “and whose fault is that? I was ready for the photoshoot before you arrived,” Kit sat up and gazed meaningfully over his fresh clothes that were unceremoniously ripped off him and carelessly strewn across the floor.

Emilia had the decency to blush before she straightened indignantly, rolling her eyes, “don’t be a dick and get your arse into the shower,”

“So bossy,” Kit muttered a complaint. Emilia mocked a glare at him and Kit shifted, afraid to meet her eye but only because he’d be sorely tempted to kiss her. Then he glanced to his phone, reminded of the photos he was downloading, “remember the Entertainment Weekly shoot?” She blinked at the change of topic and nodded, “I was just about to look through the photos, want to see?”

She grinned, nodding, “they’re out? Of course!” Emilia made her way over and sat perched on the edge of the bed. Kit gulped as quietly as he could as he detected a waft of the fragrance of her shampoo. He gazed at her, idly wondering if he would ever be able to look at Emilia as just a mate like she wanted; without constantly feeling that impulse to pull her closer to him and kiss her. It wasn’t that he wanted something from her, like a kiss or sex. It was more like he wanted her to always be kissed and loved and happy, like she deserved to be, always.

And he wanted to be the one to give those to her.

“Oh god,” Emilia groaned.

Kit turned from her to look down at his phone, of which she was browsing.

 

Kit laughed. They looked hilarious. The photographer has asked for a fun shot and of course Emilia, Lena and himself had to partake.

“I look like a troll, as usual,” Emilia giggled despite her initial dismay; always able to have a laugh at the expense of herself.

 _No you don’t. You look like an angel._ “Emilia Clarke in her natural form,” Kit narrated sagely.

Her giggles intensified and she slapped him, hard, on his shoulder, “shut the fuck up and wear some clothes,” she snapped, looking to be trying hard to suppress her mirth. He was stark naked beside her but Kit was amused it took her this long to bring it up, evidently as comfortable with his nakedness as he was with his own around her. Without waiting for him to respond, Emilia looked down and clicked on the next photo.  

Kit remembered this one well. Emilia has been goofing around and has snatched his sword from him before promptly pushing him into the chair. She was giggling so much and having so much fun, Kit had decided to indulge her and allow her, Daenerys Targaryen, to hold him, Jon Snow, hostage despite how unlikely it was. Inwardly, Kit was slightly impressed with the way she was handling the sword; pretty theatrical but realistic. She then proceeded to pose for it, completely losing her giggles and putting on her solemn side as easily as she’d put on clothes. Kit, on the other hand, remembered having trouble even tearing his gaze from her and to his embarrassment, it showed in the photo.

It was in moments captured in photographs like this that Kit knew why Lena, his mum and pretty much everyone knew they had something going on. Kit thought he looked helplessly in love with her as he gazed sideways at her in the photo, even if she literally was holding a sword to his neck. He hadn’t actually realised how he looked at her before now.

 _“Darling, you can’t seem to take your eyes of the girl and she, you. Both of you are like two opposite poles of a magnet. You’re both in love, Kit and I am so happy you found each other. It’s a really rare thing,”_ his mum had said.

Kit felt a twinge of guilt then, having not properly informed his mum what went on between him and Emilia apart from letting her know they were taking a break from each other, over the phone when she asked. His mum has been rightfully concerned and tried to probe more in person but Kit had dismissed her worries, telling her him and Emilia are still extremely close. _Too close._

“Someone’s happy,” Emilia teased and Kit followed her gaze to see she has zoomed in onto his face in the photo, conveniently cutting herself out. _Always oblivious to how beautiful she is and absolutely abhors seeing herself in photos or on television._

“Someone’s serious,” Kit countered, reaching over to drag the photo over so she could be seen. Emilia nudged his arm away, hiding a smile before she swiped for the next photo.

They both laughed at it. This photo followed the other when Emilia had tried to change her pose, only to run out of poses with a sword, something she rarely practiced with. She made to teasingly stab him where she knew it’ll hurt.

_“I’ll do it,” she threatened, holding the sword aloft._

_“Go on,” Kit smirked and sat back, confidently raising a leg over the arm of the chair and opening his neither regions for her to hurt._

She had giggled uncontrollably then. Kit remembered gazing up at her, extremely pleased with himself for making her giggle. _Happiness suits her, truly._

“Aw, look how happy you look here!” Emilia grinned. _Only because you are…_ “imagine all the hearts you’ll steal with that smile,” _none of which I’d really want._ Kit was getting better at stilling his tongue around her; being that mate Emilia so badly wanted him to be, and not her lover. Now, seeing her so comfortable with sitting so close beside his naked self in nothing but a towel, Kit thought he could be that mate.

“The very same you’ll break if you’d stabbed me there,” Kit said instead.

Emilia burst into raucous giggles, “mine included,” she smirked, replying in a sultry tone before she glanced down meaningfully at said object of the ongoing banter.

Rolling his eyes and feeling suddenly self-conscious, his cheeks flushed as he tugged the duvet over his exposed neither regions. Emilia laughed as he swiped for the next photo.

He unwittingly drew in a sharp breath. She looked absolutely gorgeous in this one. Kit didn’t even realise a photo was taken of this moment but he was glad the photographer managed to capture Emilia like this. It was a moment he witnessed often and wished on hindsight that he’d had his wits about him to take a photo of her.

He couldn’t really recall exactly what he said that got her laughing like this but he remembered feeling his gut twist and tighten and his hand fisted to resist the urge to pull her to him. In the photo, his fisted hand was plainly visible. He glanced to her to see if she noticed his oddly fisted hand. Kit paused.

Emilia was gazing down at the photo with a soft look in her eyes and a fading smile on her lips. He could’ve sworn her eyes welled up with tears but as he leaned over to peer into her eyes, she blinked and looked away, clearing her throat, “didn’t realise a photo was taken,” she muttered, glancing away from him. _Don’t hide from me, Milly. Why will you hide from me? How could you hide from me when we are halves of a whole? What have become of us now?_

Kit’s heart wrenched when Emilia coughed, which he knew was feigned only because of how well he knew her, and lifted her hand in an attempt to wipe her eyes. Without thinking, he leaned over and caught her by her wrist, tugging her to face him, _Milly._ “Clarke,” he muttered; consciously correcting himself against a habit that he had never really and never wanted to kicked, “we should talk-“

His phone rang and they both startled. Glancing down, he saw who was calling.

_Rose._

He glanced to Emilia. Her face looked strangely blank. Then she smiled a small smile and handed over his phone. _No, it can wait-_ Kit’s lips parted in protest but Emilia had already rose from the bed. He watched her hastily grab a set of fresh clothes from her bags before proceeding back into the bathroom to get dressed. When the door clicked shut behind her, Kit blinked and looked down at the ringing phone in his hand.

He picked up and brought it to his ears, “Hello,”

“Hi Kit!” Rose greeted cheerily over the line, “haven’t heard from you in a while, what are you up to?”

 _3 days at best. Emilia and I used to lose contact for a week…and look where that got us…_ “Hey,” Kit replied, smiling. Then it occurred to him that her not having heard from him was entirely his fault. He hurriedly added, “sorry about the text, I was just about to reply. I’m headed for a photoshoot for Thrones’ publicity,”

“Nah, it’s fine! And a photoshoot, with which magazine?”

“Rolling stones,” Kit could hear some background noise that suggested she was out.

“I heard their photoshoots are pretty fun, especially the outdoor-sy ones; with all the running around and them wanting it to be natural. Have a great time!” Rose cheered. _Oh I know for a fact it’ll be fun, even if they put me in a box and wanted me to smile… Emilia will make sure of it; the fun part and the smile,_ “anyway, I’ll be in London next week to run some errands, will you be in town?”

“I don’t think I will be, Rose. I’m so sorry about that, I’ll be returning to film Seventh Sons after this photoshoot,” Kit could not, for the life of him, recall if he told Rose he’ll be filming a movie but she didn’t seem surprised.

“Oh…” her voice trailed off, disappointment evident in her tone and Kit felt a twinge of guilt. Ridiculous, considering how it wasn’t his fault in the least, “it’s alright then! I’ll see you when you get back!”

“Sure, I’ll make it up to you with the best coffee in London,” Kit replied distractedly as he glanced to the door of the bathroom, wondering why Emilia was taking so long. An awkward silence fell over their phone call before Kit added, “sorry, Rose. I got to go,”

“It’s alright, I’ll be in touch for that coffee!” she said cheerily and Kit smiled, “bye!”

“Bye,” Kit hung up and stood from the bed. Frowning, he came to the door of the bathroom. As he raised a hand to knock, it flew open and Kit very nearly hit Emilia.

She blinked, startling, “Kit!”

He stared. She was wearing a grey knitted jumper over a white tank top and jeans. Her wavy brunette locks tumbled over one shoulder, leaving the other shoulder bare as her jumper slipped off. _She looks lovely-_

Emilia’s raucous giggle snapped him out of staring, “wear your pants for god’s sake!” he followed her meaningful glances down to his crotch before he gazed at her in disbelief at her inability to stop giggling at his nakedness. _And is she blushing?_

Before Kit could present a smart reply, Emilia brushed past him, determinedly packing her bag.

* * *

“Good,” Peggy said as Lena arched her back atop Emilia, both of them posing for the camera. Lena looked the beautiful veteran actor that she was, comfortable and confident before the camera.

Emilia, on the other hand, was not as confident and that fact was as obvious to Kit as her beauty-

“Emilia’s a natural,” Kit blinked and turned to Alfie who stood beside him, “look at her,” Alfie complained. Kit knew what Alfie meant. Game of Thrones was the first big project for the bunch of them; Emilia, Alfie, Richard and himself included. Apart from the actual process of filming, press, photoshoots and panel interviews were all very new to them. From the get-go, all of them could see how good Emilia was at almost all of them. Her talent for acting with not just her face but subtly, with her eyes made her work extraordinary. And her friendly, extroverted nature made everything outside of filming look almost easy for her. It was like she was born to be an actor. In their time spent hanging out, they have always complained about it. Every time, Emilia’d brush them off, pleading for them to stop taking the piss out of her.

In these moments, Kit felt he was the only one who knew she wasn’t being modest. He could see her lack of confidence and her discomfort in her own beautiful skin, even now as Alfie lamented about how at ease she looked. She was genuinely uncertain and was only confident because she tried very hard to look it and being an actor, she succeeded in that. All this because she was so absolutely oblivious to how good she was.

Kit crossed his arms, trying to stop staring so intently at Emilia but to no avail. He watched her glance about, almost nervously, as Peggy instructed Lena to perfect her position, “alright! Beautiful, ladies,”

Lena said something to Emilia, making her giggle as they rose from the grass. Kit stared then, feeling a lump form in his throat as the expanse of Emilia’s bared midriff was revealed to him and he thought he glimpsed the curve of her breast from under her pink furry top that barely covered her.

“Kit! You’re up, with Emilia,” Peggy said and Kit startled, snapped out of his reverie. He glanced around at the crew of males and felt bitter jealousy at the way their eyes lingered on Emilia. She, however, was staring at him. On her lips, there was a half-faded smile. When she met his eye, her lips curved into a small soft smile; one just for him, her best mate, her lover- _but not her boyfriend, not anymore-_ “Emilia can you get into a little kneel? Kit, come over here,”

Emilia tore her gaze from him as she knelt. Kit squatted behind her then, as instructed by Peggy. He glanced sideways at her, his mouth drying at the sight of her bare shoulder. He wanted to kiss her there so badly. His mouth fell open as he glanced down to see that Emilia has tucked her thumbs into the band of her trousers, tugging them lower teasingly to reveal her abdomen. This was characteristic in his understanding of a side of Emilia he saw in the bedroom but uncharacteristic of the Emilia outside of it.

“Alright, look here,”

Kit glanced over to see Peggy raising a finger over her camera.

“A little closer Kit,”

Kit nodded, swallowing subtly as he scooted over, trying very hard to keep his eyes on the camera instead of on the very tantalising person next to him. The camera clicked softly.     

Peggy looked down at the photo and whistled, “looks…great,” her brows raised, in almost surprise. Peggy chewed her lips in thought as Alfie and Lena moved in beside them for the scheduled group shot.

While waiting, Kit glanced over to see Emilia glancing to him at the same moment. Both of them paused when their eyes met unexpectedly. Kit felt himself automatically soften at the sight of her lovely face. Her bright blue eyes seemed to be tugging him closer to her. That is until Emilia giggled, looking away with an absurd blush forming on her cheeks. The sound of her giggles incited a chuckle from him.

“What?” Kit demanded, playfully prodding her. He intended to unnerve and tease her but it backfired when he came in contact with soft bare skin and his fingers twitched with the urge to sneak another feel of her.

“Nothing,” Emilia pursed her lips and shrugged.

Kit narrowed his eyes at her, his hand rising unwittingly to brush aside a lock of her brunette hair as it fluttered into her face. He had intended to drop his hand the moment he got that out of the way but ended up playing with the lock of her hair absently, “lie,” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes at him, “piss off,” she snapped right back; feisty as always.

Kit opened his mouth for a retort but before he could, Peggy said, “can the two of you do another shot before the group shot?”

They both turned to Peggy, blinking in surprise before nodding, “sure,” Kit replied. Emilia shrugged beside him.

“Kit, can you go closer?” Peggy gestured. Kit glimpsed Emilia’s shoulder tense just so, “as close as it is comfortable for the both of you,” she added and he glanced to Emilia; his single look conveying a silent question. She lifted her head in equally silent and barely noticeable agreement. He shifted closer then, close enough to detect the warmth of her skin. He then glanced to Peggy, “closer if you can?” Peggy asked. Kit shifted, gently placing a hand on her waist to steady himself and not fall into her, “Emilia lean back a little,”

He felt his breath catch as Emilia leaned back into him. His heart was pounding. Kit found himself wishing Emilia could feel it and yet he wished she couldn’t. He dared to glance sideways at her only when he felt her begin to relax against him, “comfortable?” Kit couldn’t resist teasing her.

She rolled her eyes but a small smile curved into her full lips. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and made to reply him but Peggy said then, “Good. Try to be natural. Emilia, your hands…maybe you could do something with them,” Peggy shrugged, lifting them over her head in an attempt to suggest poses to Emilia. Kit schooled his usual brooding expression into his face as he gently caressed her on her waist with his thumb, coaxing her to relax.

Emilia huffed a laugh. Kit wasn’t sure if it was in response to his touch or what Peggy said but she arched back into him playfully. His body responded, leaning into her so that the side of her face was pressed against his. Kit felt a flutter in his chest as Emilia gently cupped his cheek, her touch so tender he could barely resist from leaning into her entirely.

“Great!” Peggy said and raised her camera to her face.

Beside him, Emilia flipped her hair out of her face before settling against him once more.

A sudden sort of peace fell over him as his body nestled against hers where it knew it belonged; where it knew it’d fit.

“Beautiful,” Peggy whistled and she gestured for the next shot. Emilia pulled away and took the air from his lungs as she went. Defeated, Kit allowed his hand which held Emilia to him to drop to his side. He watched her as she adjusted her top.

“Alright?” he asked quietly.

Emilia turned to him, her brows raised in surprise, “yep,” she chimed and grinned. Then her eyes darted to the side at Lena and Alfie who were having their picture taken in a similar fashion as they did, but less intimately.

Emilia bit her lower lip and Kit recognised it to be a nervous habit that told him she was contemplating if she should say what was on her mind.

“Just spill it, Clarke,” Kit rolled his eyes, knowing how uncertain she could be sometimes. If she could, she’d probably overthink it all day and ended up holding her tongue anyway.

Emilia mocked a scowl, “don’t be a dick,” she snapped.

“Come on-” Kit nudged her.

She glanced to the rest once more before she blurted, “how am I looking?” Kit blinked and she rambled on, “I mean I know it’s daft to ask it only now when probably more than half the photos are already taken but I thought this top, trousers and shoes were too much and not really me-“ _is she completely daft? Can’t she see how the crew are salivating over her?_

Once Kit got over his initial astonishment at her question, he smirked, replying her, “absolutely terrible. Blindingly-”

“I said _don’t be a dick_!” she howled, punching him in the shoulder. Kit yelped, exaggerating the pain by clutching his shoulder.

“I am not!” Kit protested, ducking her next swing.

Emilia missed and reeled just slightly on her platform shoes in the grass. Kit laughed at her panicked but adorable expression as she caught herself, “yes you are! You fucking prat,” Emilia gave up hitting him altogether when she recognised that she’ll never catch him if he ran while wearing those shoes, “you’re supposed to tell me how good I am looking,” she whined instead, “and feed my sorely-lacking ego,”

Kit’s grin slipped from his lips and was replaced by a small satisfied smile and a soft look in his eyes, “you already know what I think; what I’d always think of you,” an endearing blush coloured her cheeks when she realised what he has baited her into doing; assuring herself, “you however need to work on knowing what I’d say, gorgeous,” he smirked and leaned down towards her, resisting the urge to kiss her soundly on her flushed cheek.

“Prat,” Emilia suppressed a smile with great difficulty but she was evidently pleased, “thank you,” she muttered grudgingly before a full-blown grin almost split her face in two.

 _Silly Milly._ Kit gazed at her endearingly, thoroughly amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out longer than I intended so it'll be in two parts with the remaining photos from that shoot related in the second part (including that one I know all of you are thinking of ;) ) 
> 
> I apologise for the wait once again but good news is... I'm halfway through the second part! So stay tuned! 
> 
> Thank you so much if you're still here! Do leave me a comment about this chapter, nothing motivates an author more than getting a sign that people are actually reading.


	8. Rolling Stones Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment was unforgettable. It was a small crew on that day, just a few of us out in the field. The chemistry between these four was huge, as you can see…I asked them to kiss, I suppose love was in the air, & I was just lucky enough to be there. 
> 
> \- Peggy Sirota (Instagram, February 6, 2016).

_March 21 st 2012, 1.30pm, Los Angeles. _

**Kit**

Kit pursed his lips futilely against a smile as Emilia giggled uncontrollably.

“Grow up you too, seriously,” Alfie rolled his eyes as he wandered over. It wasn’t news how giggly they both were around the other, never able to hold a serious conversation for more than half a minute. Kit could not even begin to imagine how he’d work with Emilia on Thrones eventually; it made him excited and nervous at the same time. _We’d fuck up so many takes._

“What?” Kit turned to him, “we’re having a very serious conversation about the photoshoot,”

“Really?” Alfie scoffed.

“Emilia’s the unprofessional one,” Kit shrugged, resisting the urge to gaze at the lovely human being who couldn’t stop giggling. He hissed as he felt a hard punch on his arm, said lovely human being’s knuckle colliding into his bone.

“Oy! You were the one who started being extremely inappropriate,” Emilia protested.

“I wouldn’t call it inappropriate when it is true,” Kit stifled a chuckle as he continued, entirely tactless, “you did just tell me you prefer to be on top,” Emilia turned tomato red instantly.

 “Woah! That is too much information for a work conversation, surely,” Alfie feigned a gag, plugging his ears.

Peggy has told them the next shot will be a playful one in which they will stack on top of the other while laying on the grass, letting them sort out among themselves where they wanted to be in the stack. Emilia has instantly opted out of being the bottommost one, stating her clear preference to be either the top or middle stack. And as usual, Kit could not resist taking the piss out of her.

“Context!” Emilia cried, “we are supposed to stack for the next shot and I do _not_ want to be the bottommost one, I’ll be crushed,”

“By exceptionally fine looking men,” Kit smirked, “I don’t see a problem with that,”

“Exactly,” Alfie grinned, nudging Kit.

Emilia groaned loudly, “keep it up, Kitten-“ his heart skipped a beat. He loved it when she called him that, “and I’ll _surely_ be crushed under your weight with _that_ ego,” she glanced to Alfie, “both your egos,”

“Oh quit complaining Clarke, I personally can’t think of a better way to go,” Kit teased and Alfie laughed.

Emilia fumed but Kit could see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes and the slightly curve of the edge of her lips. _She’s always a good sport._

“Alright, come on guys,” Peggy called to them. Emilia glared at both of them as they made their way over. Once they came to the spot Peggy gestured to, Kit yelped as Emilia all but shoved him forward, to the ground. He stumbled but managed to catch himself, still on his feet. He was about to let out a breath of relief before turning to glare at her when he got the air knocked out of him. Emilia had barrelled into his back.

They both toppled to the grass. _Milly!_ Kit panicked, reaching to catch Emilia but he was falling forward with her behind him. He fell onto his hands and knees onto the grass but his knees buckled and he fell flat on his front as Emilia all but fell right atop him.

She giggled loudly.

_She’s alright._

Relief filled him.

“I’m top stack-“ Emilia started cheering and Kit groaned in exaggerated agony.

Her giggles stilled and Kit felt her hand on his arm, “Kitten? Are you alright?” she asked.

He craned his neck back. She was sprawled over his back, her brows furrowed with worry as her eyes searched his body for any wounds.

He groaned again and wheezed, “I think something got me,” he reached ‘weakly’ to his middle. Emilia’s face contorted with worry and panic and for a moment, Kit felt bad for deceiving her but at the thought of how he ended up like this in the first place, he continued his little act. Emilia got up, straddling his thighs as she tugged at him to flip him over onto his back so she could see what was hurting him.

Kit grinned. He grabbed her hand and yanked her down, intending to throw her to the grass and crawl over her to make her the bottom stack. But he forgot she still straddled his thighs. Upon his tug, her legs only tightened around his thighs to steady herself. She yelped, falling forward onto him instead.

“Git!” Emilia cried, pushing him so he fell forward and ended up on his belly on the grass again.

“You got the first alphabet wrong,” Kit said dully, disappointed his attempt to get her as the bottom stack failed. Emilia paused and giggled loudly. Kit pursed his lips against a smile at seeing and hearing her giggle.

“Don’t mind if I get on top of you, Em,” Alfie teased from behind them and Kit felt her startle, “wow, nice bottom, perky-” a bitter taste settled in Kit’s mouth.

Emilia laughed, “shut up Alfie!”

“-and comfortable,” Kit could hear Alfie’s grin in his words.

He glanced behind, past Emilia, to see Alfie cross his arms over Emilia’s bottom and lay his head down. Kit could think of plenty of derogatory remarks to throw at Alfie while he himself lay helpless under Emilia and hence, unable to pull his supposed ‘mate’ from Emilia and downright strangle him. Cruel things to say to Alfie were already on the tip of his tongue when Emilia caught his eye; as she always did.

Her cheeks were flushed prettily and on her lips was a half faded laugh. A familiar impulse to make her giggle and see that full grin again came to him and Kit forgot his spiteful words he wanted to throw at Alfie. Kit said instead, “fart for me now, will you, Clarke?”

Emilia burst into raucous giggles. Kit then glimpsed that smile he adores with every inch of his being; one that always came to her for him so easily, one that makes his stomach flip, one that makes his heart skip a beat. He smiled, pleased with himself as he fidgeted with the grass beneath him. Emilia shifted, wiggling her bum and jostling Alfie.

A beat. “Did you?” Kit asked impatiently.

“I’m honestly trying!“ She cried, looking genuinely exasperated with herself and her lack of ability to break wind on command.

Kit laughed. _I love you…_ He threw a feign glare back at her, “if you need inspiration, I could fart this instant-“

“Don’t you dare-” She howled. He froze before chuckling bitterly, longingly as a sweet moment from the past, one not unlike this one, came to him.

_“You fart in your sleep, Kit,” she told him._

_He stared blankly at her._ No I don’t. She’s just teasing-

_Emilia looked solemnly up at him, “you really do, Kitten,” she pursed her lips against a smile._

_But despite that, Kit could see she wasn’t lying. She was merely amused this was evidently news to him. It was now his turn to avert her gaze, shift uncomfortably and his cheeks heated._ Fuck. Truth.

_As if she could read his mind, he glimpsed Emilia nod from the corner of his eye, “yep, and that’s the fucking truth,” she giggled. He furrowed his brows, thoroughly embarrassed. Then he felt her small hands on his cheek, her thumb scuffing his prickly beard tenderly. He tentatively looked to her. Her eyes were soft as they gazed up at him, “I’m still here,” she smiled, “mostly because you have me pinned but you get what I mean,” she teased._

He met Emilia’s eye, her face softening as her grin slipped from her lips. Kit had been sure then, she was reminded of the exact same moment. _Now… I don’t have you pinned… you have me pinned in fact…_

Kit grinned, set to test her resolve. Emilia’s eyes widened just slightly as if she could read his mind and she probably could.

He farted, just loud enough for her to hear-

_A pause._

And smell.

“KITTEN!” she shrieked, holding her nose as her face scrunched up in disgust. She slapped his arse, hard and Kit howled, feeling the sting, more of embarrassment of having his arse slapped in front of the whole photoshoot crew than of actual pain or of shyness – they were past the point of arse-slapping, definitely.

“I’m charging for that slap,” Kit shot back, “10 quid thank you,”

Emilia laughed, “what? Acting not working out for you, Kitten?”

_“I feel like I’m filming porn,”_

_Emilia laughed, “pretty much. Could an option, if this acting thing doesn’t work out,” she smirked._

_Kit chuckled in amusement._ I love you.

Kit remembered thinking then; and even now. _I love you… I have loved you and I will always love you._

_You’re my-_

_Best friend._

_You’re my best friend._

Emilia looked at him with a smirk, expectant of a smart-arse reply. He grinned at her and shrugged.

“What are you two on about?” Alfie shouted over the racket that the fan blowing at them was causing. He was frowning in puzzlement at what Emilia has just said.

They exchanged a look before laughing, “ **inside joke** ,” they said at the same time, pausing in surprise as they looked to the other again. Alfie looked between them, raising a brow. Then Peggy called to get their attention for the photo.

As they posed for the photo, Kit realised in hindsight he’d gotten his answer after his little tease of a test in the form of a fart to her face:

_Yep, true to your word Clarke. You’re still here._

_Will you always be here? With me?_

_Can you always be here, please?_

 

**Emilia**

“Someone’s happy,”

Emilia paused and turned to see Lena sitting in the make-up chair as the hair artist did her hair. Lena was smiling meaningfully at her. Emilia pursed her lips against the smile that seemed carved into her face since they began the photoshoot. She glanced to the hair artist before ducking behind the curtains to change to a white dress she was to wear for the second half of the shoot.

It didn’t take someone observant to notice that at all. Emilia’s cheeks were starting to ache from laughing so much; too much, and it was rare for someone who loved to smile as much as she did to feel that way.

But Emilia already knew she’d be in for a good time. She’d started the day right, with a good, mindblowing shag that she has craved for since she boarded the plane to LA; marred only by the fact that she’d forgotten her pills and had to have Kit wear a condom. She could never seem to be close enough to him in moments like this.

If Emilia was completely honest, she wasn’t sure if what she was wanted was just a shag or was it because it was Kit. But she was sure of one thing: she missed him. The thought of seeing him again made her excited and nervous at the same time. It made her look in the mirror a minute, or thirty, longer than usual. It made her run from the plane to the customs to have her passport stamped and then to the taxi she hailed hastily. She could barely contain her excitement as she stood waiting outside his door after knocking. And she’d all but thrown herself at him.

But Kit has always welcomed her, with literal open arms and an open heart. He had held her close and even as he was supposedly ‘fucking’ her; she could see past his feign carelessly in his gaze and the little gestures he’d do. He’d brush her hair from her face when he thought she was too enraptured to notice; he’d laced their fingers together with the excuse to gain some purchase while he thrusted into her; he’d ‘accidentally’ kiss her face whenever he keeled over her in sheer pleasure.

He made her feel like the most precious and perfect thing in the world. It didn’t matter how she felt about herself moments before. The moment she saw him and saw how he looks at her, she knew that everything will be alright and she only had to be herself. She was, for as long as she can remember, finally enough; for herself, for him and that was all that was important to her.

And it showed in their photoshoots together.

Emilia could see how genuine and natural they both were when they were together; at complete ease. Even now. Emilia has felt nervous as she posed with Lena, helpless against the feeling that she was looking ridiculously rookie and pre-pubescent next to Lena; looking like a silly girl rather than exuding the sexy lady vibe she was expected to exude. It only took a short conversation with Kit to remedy that; in which he told her how revolting she was looking when she tried to get him to say what the look in his eyes have always told her.

Emilia emerged from behind the changing curtain to see that Lena was sitting alone at the makeup chair. She glanced around to see that the hair artist wasn’t around. Lena looked up from her phone and smiled. Emilia returned her smile, almost sheepishly before sinking into the seat beside her. All the while, Lena’s eyes did not leave her.

“No…we’re not back together or anything…” Emilia sighed, answering the question Lena evidently has on the tip of her tongue.

Lena raised a sculptured brow so high, it would have been concealed by her raven hair if the hair artist hadn’t combed it all back, “I thought-“

“No,” Emilia chuckled, “hell no. Far from it…”

Lena’s look of disbelief would have been funny if Emilia hadn’t suddenly found it hard to breathe at Lena’s unsaid suggestion that how they behaved around the other gave her the impression that they were together again, “what happened?”

“We spoke and we are going to remain friends,” Emilia shrugged and tried to seem nonchalant as she looked at herself in the mirror, “best friends,” Lena nodded slowly, seeming to be processing the information she was given. Emilia bit her lip as she glanced sideways to Lena. She blurted then, “we’re still sleeping together.”

Lena promptly choked. Emilia laughed. When Lena recovered, she managed, “how did that come about?”

Emilia shrugged, “a drink,”

“Or twenty,” Lena rolled her eyes.

“Or twenty,” Emilia confirmed. _But only for the first time in his new apartment after we separated. We didn’t need drinks in the times after that._ Her laughter died down as her gaze fell to the floor.

“He still looks at you the same way,” Lena informed and Emilia felt a pang of guilt along with a familiar sort of pain that she thought she was numb to until now, “like you’re his whole world,”

Emilia said but it came out as a whisper, “I know-“

“And you look at him like he’s given you your whole world,”

_He has. He does._

* * *

The moment she stepped out the make-up trailer, her eyes searched the location automatically and found what they sought out almost instinctively.

There he was.

He stood where they were supposed to assemble for the next group photo. He was fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of a grey shirt he has changed into that left a good portion of his chest bare. Kit was practically hairless in comparison to other guys she has been with or knew; on his chest and his bum. Emilia fought a raging blush at the image of his hairless, sculptured bum into which she had dug the heels of her feet into to bring him closer to her, deeper into her, many times.

She had thought she preferred her men hairier, before Kit, but she found she loved tracing the fine hairs on his chest as he slept and she loved scuffing against his stubble that he was trying to grow out. But with Kit, Emilia knew it wasn’t just a thing about him that she liked and he wasn’t a ‘type’ that she was weak for. She just liked _him_.

Her eyes followed his bared chest up to his brooding visage, lingering on his lips that always seemed to be pouting when he didn’t smile; the same one she always wanted to taste. Kit’s eyes were fixed on the loose thread and his brows were furrowed together. Then her eyes found his magnificent mane of raven curls that he grew out for Thrones. Emilia has lost count of the number of times she has carded her fingers through them, pleased with herself as his eyes fluttered close; the number of times she has fisted them by the roots as he thrusted relentlessly into her. She loved his hair and especially how they’d tickle her face and let her know how close he was to her.

As if he could sense his eyes on her, and he very well could, Kit looked up. She watched his brown sullen eyes light up and soften into pools of molten chocolate, as they always did, when he saw her. His pouty lips smoothed into a smile as he waved at her. Emilia paused when she looked closely and saw he was waving a middle finger at her. She laughed and rolled her eyes as she made to join him.

“Did you go for plastic surgery or what?” Kit scoffed, “took you long enough,”

Emilia rolled her eyes, “don’t be grumpy. They held me up to do my hair,”

Kit raised a hand and took a lock of her brunette hair between his fingers. The simplicity of that act made her heart skip a beat. “What did they do?”

She shrugged, “some hair spray but nothing major. And they touched up the make-up,” she glanced to see Kit playing with her hair absently as he glanced over her curiously. 

“You look great,” Kit said and glanced at the crew to see if they were ready.

She bit her lips against a pleased smile. _I know, Kitten. I know you think so the moment you saw me._ “Aw, Kitten is being sweet,” she couldn’t help herself as she raised a hand and cupped his cheek teasingly; sneaking a feel of his stubble. The unique roughness of it was comforting to her and made her knees weak when it was against her palm, against her cheek, against her lips and sometimes, on a good day, against the inside of her thighs-

 _For fuck’s sake, Emilia._ She fought the raging blush in vain.

“Stop teasing me. See this is why I do not praise you, like you wanted. You can just thank me you know,” Kit grumbled, thankfully, not privy to her thoughts in that moment. Emilia laughed nervously and she quickly got on her tip toes before he noticed the suspicious nervousness.  

Giving in to an impulse to satisfy as much of her desires as she dared, she pressed her lips to his stubble and let them skim over it as she pulled away. Emilia whispered, “thank you, Kitten,” when she gazed up at his face, he stared at her a moment too long and seemed to have forgotten to breathe and blink. She giggled, half in tease and half in relief he did not grow suspicious of her inappropriate thoughts, “sucker,”

He blinked, “fuck off, Clarke,” he grumbled and turned away from her, fuming in that silent way he always does. _Silent, moody but adorable…_

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes and turned away, waving to Alfie and Lena who were approaching.

They were quickly lined up and positioned for the shot. Alfie stood first, angled away from Lena who had her chin over Alfie’s shoulder. Beside Lena, stood Kit and Peggy gestured her over, placing her beside Kit. Her heart leaped into her mouth, with joy more than anything.

There was honestly nowhere else Emilia would rather stand if only for the reason that Kit made her feel at ease in her own skin. That was paramount in a shoot which demanded she looked natural and confident, regardless of how she actually felt.

She grinned, deliberately making a show of how happy she was for she knew he’d not believe it to be real and take it as her teasing him, as usual. Predictably, Kit rolled his eyes, assuming she was teasing him and not genuinely happy to be next to him. But Emilia could easily spot the way the edge of his lips curved into a pleased smile, as did the edges of his eyes. _He likes me next to him too._ Emilia only hoped her presence does for Kit even a quarter of what his presence does for her.

She stood next to him, their shoulders brushing as they turned to Peggy who was peering through her frame, “alright, now I need you guys to get in real close and tight,”

Emilia only obliged too eagerly. She melded into his side, her shoulder going just under Kit’s such that she was fitted into his side. She slipped an arm around his waist. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Kit raise both his arms, wrapping one around Lena and resting his hand on Alfie’s shoulder and wrapping the other around her, his hand resting on her shoulder. At this proximity, Emilia caught Kit suck in a subtle breath as his hand came in contact with her bare skin. His hand felt warm and coarse but so gentle he was barely touching her. She drew a sharp breath with him. _Oh Kitten…_

“Good, Emilia, can you reach over to hold Alfie?” Peggy said from behind her camera. Emilia obliged, placing her hand on Alfie’s chest, under Lena’s arm. It was then she felt Kit’s jaw lightly brush and settle against her temple. The feel of his stubble used to make her weak at the knees and completely fall against him and it still does. _And Kitten knows._ She could barely contain a small smile as she tilted closer into Kit.

His hand on her shoulder pressed her closer to him. And in that moment, a lump formed in Emilia’s throat when she realised this was how it could be for them in front of their friends if they haven’t broken up. She could remain in his arms where she felt lighter than she had for months, where she felt more confident, where she felt so simply _happy_. The telling click of the camera went off.

“Alright, now a casual shot, a fun shot,” Peggy said from behind her camera.

Working off the feeling of sheer joy that threatened to burst from her chest and her absolute trust in the man she loves, Emilia flashed him a quick smile before leaning back from him. She felt Kit adjust his hand down to her back, holding her firmly and despite her practically hanging in mid-air, she has never felt safer. With the wind blowing her hair, Emilia didn’t try to contain the grin from her face.

The camera clicked a few times. “Great shots guys,” Peggy said and glanced down to have a quick glance through the pictures, “loving the chemistry,”

Kit chuckled, “come here,” his voice was warm and deeper than usual, almost hoarse, not unlike his voice when he just woke. She straightened and snuggled happily against his side, encouraged by his hand which was splayed over her bare back from supporting her. Kit nuzzled the hair from her face with his jaw and Emilia couldn’t contain the giggle that bubbled from her chest.

“Alright, now let’s get some more serious ones but no less loving,” Peggy brought the camera to her face, “Kit and Emilia, stay where you are. Lena, if you could lean on Alfie,”

Emilia could feel Kit nuzzling her temple just so. The camera went off a few times. Then she felt his soft lips press against her temple chastely, but no less firmly. The camera clicked.

Peggy brought the camera down to examine the photo. Kit withdrew, his lips brushing her skin as they left, and Emilia felt her stomach sink in disappointment. The skin of her temple was burning where he had kissed her. She peered up at him as he gazed down to her. His chocolate brown eyes were focussed intently on her and there was no doubt in her mind, in that moment, he saw only her; he thought only of her. _Kitten…look at me like that longer and I just might believe I truly am good enough for this industry, for this world, for you…_

There were so many things Emilia wanted to tell him at that moment; how much she missed them, how much she missed him, how much she missed being able to call him hers, how much she missed being his. But for all she wanted to tell him, she managed only his name, “Kitten…” his brows rose slightly, in evident distress and he glanced between her eyes searchingly, encouraging her to tell him what she was thinking.

 “Beautiful!”

Emilia blinked and they both turned to Peggy who looked up from her camera then.

“Kit, Emilia…” Peggy hesitated momentarily as she looked between them, “if it is not too much, could you two kiss?”

Emilia froze and could only stare blankly at Peggy when every fibre of her being pleaded for her to do as she was asked. _There is nothing more I’d want._

Her heart hammered against her chest and his, pressed against hers, at her internal admittance. Emilia turned to Kit to see that he was already gazing at her, with a soft look in his eyes. It was clear on his face he was ready to oblige. At that discovery, Emilia could find no more reason to deny Peggy of the shot she wanted. Holding his gaze, Emilia extracted her hand from between their bodies and brought it up to gently hold the back of his neck, guiding him down to her. The familiarity of this both made her heart sing and ache at the same time; how easy it felt to hold Kit like this, to hold this man like she would a lover, like she would the man she’d give the rest of her life so willingly to.

It was then a memory came flooding back into her mind, despite how unwelcomed it was.

_I’m falling in love with you, Milly. And I really want to kiss you now. May I, please?_

Emilia could still remember the look in his eyes as he told her that. She could remember how beautiful he looked with the orange glow of the setting sun casting the most exquisite silhouette over his lovely face. She could remember the tone of his voice; she hadn’t thought a man could speak so gently until then. _Yes Kitten, yes a thousand times. Yes, a million times._ She thought now as she has thought then.

Just as in that moment, the very same lips brushed hers before melding firmly with hers, fitting perfectly.  

Kit took her bottom lip between his and kissed her deliberately, completely unhurried. He lingered longer than necessary, leaving behind nothing but sweet love on her lips; as he did the first time he kissed her. The first time and every time after, as long as she’d let him kiss her so.

As Kit pulled away, she felt an instinct to hold him and keep him with her but then Emilia noticed the wolf-whistles from Alfie and the numerous pair of widened eyes on them. She felt her cheeks heat up as she let her hand drop from Kit’s neck. She daren’t look at him still so instead, she glanced about, suddenly self-conscious that they had just kissed in front of everyone.

Kit, however, snaked his other hand around her waist, holding her to him. Glancing to Kit, Emilia felt immensely shy but Kit was grinning so widely and proudly she couldn’t help but giggle, amused and happy. There was no trace of shyness or embarrassment on his face. In fact, he looked happier than she remembered seeing since they broke up.

Lena whooped, joining Alfie and began to fan herself with her hand, “someone turn up the fan please, it’s getting hot here,”

Emilia laughed as she reached to squeeze Lena’s shoulder in gentle chiding. Kit peered at her, his gaze having not left her since they parted from the kiss.

His fond gaze, accompanied by the feeling of her body against his, did not help her predicament with her embarrassingly flushed cheeks before the entire crew so Emilia pushed herself from Kit and snapped at both Alfie and Lena, “shut up the both of you,” it did nothing but incite more laughter from both of them and the whole crew. All through this, Kit’s soft gaze remained on her, a small smile on his lips. And despite all the teasing, he was uncharacteristically quiet.

Trapped and burning with embarrassment, Emilia turned to Peggy and asked if she got what she needed. Turned out, Peggy was so pleased with how that shot went, she promptly declared Alfie and Lena wrapped while requesting for Kit and Emilia to stay for one last shot of the day; dancing.

Emilia raised a brow, “what kind?”

Peggy opened her mouth to tell her but Kit grabbed her wrist, snaked an arm around her waist and before she could even yelp in surprise, she found herself in probably her favourite spot in the whole world; in his arms, pressed up against him.

She was mildly aware of Peggy directing the crew to get the wind and lighting right. With this day quickly becoming one of her most memorable and fondest day, Emilia could not wipe the grin from her face as she whispered, “what are you doing?”

“Faking it till we make it,” Kit replied in a low tone, “quick, look like we know what we are doing-“

“But we don’t!” Emilia giggled, hissing back.

“That’s why it’s called ‘faking it’, my darling,” Kit rolled his eyes and Emilia’s middle warm at the endearment. She glanced sideways to their hands as Kit’s hand left her wrist to trace her skin. The tips of his fingers gently traced the inside of her wrist and goosebumps exploded over her arm. Her skin tingled and like clockwork, she melted against his touch.

“ _Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you,_ ” Kit began singing, so softly it was barely a whisper but Emilia heard it. She’s heard him sing it before, for her, while they danced on the streets of London on Valentine’s day. It felt so long ago.

_A lovely melody made her stop in her tracks and she could not help but look to it. In a small open area, a busker was singing old love songs on his guitar. In front of him, a few couples have gathered to slow dance; a rare sight in London but it was a special night. A smile spread unwittingly over her lips as she watched the couples dance; they were so in love and it’s beautiful to see-_

_“Come on,” Kit tugged her and she blinked, her feet following him._

_Then she realised he was bringing to where the couples were dancing, “Kit what-“_

_“Dance with me, Milly,” he said._

_By the second song, Kit began softly singing along with the song. When she giggled, teasing him for his awful tone deaf singing that she knew he was feigning, a twinkle of mischief flashed in his eyes before he pulled her closer and sang terribly to her right in her ear. Emilia could not stop laughing, “I love you but you’re awful!”_

_Kit stopped singing then. He withdrew from her to look at her and she could see that he was stunned. She smiled up at him and Kit returned it, a small, easy, handsome smile.Then he blinked and said, “it’s not awful and you should be paying me for that special rendition!” he declared._

_She rolled her eyes, “believe me, Harington. You need to make this actor thing work, because you aren’t going to have a career in singing,”_

_Kit glowered at her but his lips were still in a small smile, “get your ears checked, Clarke,” she huffed in annoyance and she glimpsed a grin cross his face before he leaned towards her and kissed her on the soft spot under her ear, his lips lingering on her skin. The feel of it set every inch of her nerves alight and she smiled into his shoulder, feeling joy beyond measure fill her. Emilia couldn’t say what it was but everything about Kit made her comfortable, safe and happy. When she was with him, she could easily forget all the insecurities and fear in that moment. He made her giggle and laugh until her stomach hurt and he only had to be here for her to smile. She was always happy with him._

_Until Kit started singing again._

She stared at him as he sang, a small sad smile on his lips. Kit began to sway to the music he was singing in a soft soothing tone; a massive improvement from his previous rendition, “ _whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you,_ ” his fingers paused on her inner wrist, over her racing pulse, “ _I wonder how we can survive…. this romance. But in the end if I’m with you, I’ll take the chance…_ ”

She smiled as tears welled up in her eyes and she was no longer sure she could look at him without actually crying and ruining the photoshoot. So instead, Emilia opted to gaze at their hands. His fingers crept slowly but surely to hers. Kit pressed the side of his face to hers, swaying back and lifting their hands in a slow dance. In the light, Emilia marvelled at how much larger Kit’s hand was compared to her smaller one and yet, how much her hand looked like it belonged in his.

Kit hummed the rest of the melody as his fingers tenderly traced its way to the tip of her finger.

A sweet warmth crept into her heart and Emilia could not stop grinning despite the longing that was now surfacing, courtesy of Kit’s singing. _That sneaky little bugger…_ Despite that, she couldn’t help but nuzzle her cheek closer to his, searching for the roughness of his stubble. Kit leaned into her cheek and clasped her hand firmly in his as the song came to an end.

 _I love you but you’re awful._ Emilia thought. Or she thought she had merely thought it but Kit chuckled and when she glanced to Kit, his eyes were curiously moist.

The camera clicked audibly.

She startled a little before coming back to herself. _For fuck’s sake, Clarke, you’re working!_ Her smile faded and she pulled herself away from Kit to straighten her back into a posture more similar to the dancer. To her relief, Kit did not lean into her and instead, gripped her firmer as they danced; a picture of professionalism.

“Perfect,” Peggy said in almost awe as she lowered her camera, “the chemistry you two have…” Emilia heard her whisper to herself as she gazed down at the camera but could not hear what else she said. Then Peggy praised them for a job well done and declared the shoot wrapped.

“You’re welcome, Clarke,” Kit whispered beside her, his warm breath tickling her cheek. Emilia jumped, so comfortable in his arms she’d forgotten he still held her to him.

“What?” she scoffed, pulling her hand from his and placing it on his chest. Gently and so very reluctantly, she pushed him away. His hand dropped from her back and Emilia found herself missing his touch instantly.

Kit pursed his lips, “thanks to me, you’re practically a professional model,”

_Yes, I probably would’ve withered from awkwardness if not for you. I would’ve hated every moment of posing in front of the camera. I would’ve posed terribly and frustrate the entire crew and Peggy-_

“Piss off Kitten,” Emilia rolled her eyes as she turned from him to make her way back to the trailer.

Kit laughed, “is that how you say thank you?” he caught up with her easily and walked beside her back to the trailer.

“Yes,” she replied plainly, “to you,” she grinned cheekily to him.

Kit’s face softened as he gazed at her. He chuckled before lifting his fingers quickly and pinching her on the tip of her nose. She blinked, startled and Kit laughed, taking off.

“Oy!” Emilia snapped before running after him.

She was about to catch him as they arrived at the trailer door when the door swung open and Alfie emerged, “Kit, phone call from Rose,” he held out his phone.

Emilia felt a bitter taste settle in her mouth then and it suddenly became hard to breathe. Kit glanced to her and Emilia schooled a neutral, almost curious expression on her face. He took his phone from Alfie, who promptly went back into the trailer. Kit looked down at the vibrating phone before he looked up to her.

Forcing her face into a sly smirk, Emilia teased, “someone misses you,” she sang. Brushing past him, Emilia made to slip into the trailer. After all, she could only keep up the act for so long before Kit, if he believed it at all.

A gentle, familiar hand closed around her arm, “Clarke…” _not Milly, not anymore._

_You are just his best mate now._

She met Kit’s solemn gaze and there seemed to be something on the tip of his tongue but whatever it is, Emilia wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. So she chided him, “it’s not nice to keep a lady waiting, Kitten,” with a grin, she pulled her arm from his grasp and climbed the steps into the trailer.

Behind her, she heard Kit say, “hullo, yeah sorry, just finished the photoshoot,” Emilia pulled open the door, “yeah,” he chuckled. She bit her lips and took a deep breath against the large rock on her chest. Kit laughed lightly and it was instantly impossible for her breathe. Slipping into the trailer, she let the door shut behind her before letting out a shuddering breath against a sharp ache.

_Silly Kitten, you shouldn’t wait for me; not if moving on will make you happy. Nothing is more important than that._

_Nothing._

_Not even me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad to know some of you seemed to have left this story but oh well...   
> Anyway, I am thankful for all you guys who stuck to this story! Thank you so much to those who commented last chapter, they are really encouraging me to continue writing! 
> 
> Do leave me a comment to let me know how you feel about this chapter! :) Would be nice to hear from you guys if you guys are still reading.


	9. Idiot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Game of Thrones co-star Kit Harington came home to his London flat last July after a night of partying and realized he lost the keys. No problem. He’d just climb into his first-floor window. Then he fell.
> 
> “Everyone always says you must have done it on set horse riding or running across glaciers or something cool,” sighs Harington about his shattered ankle. “I was an idiot. The ‘invincibility of youth’ and all that. I couldn’t even blame it on a film set. And I had avoided skiing for ages because I thought I’d break my ankle!”
> 
> \- Entertainment Weekly (Mar 2013)
> 
> When it came down to it I had a broken ankle," he says, "so the only time you saw my ass, it wasn’t my ass."
> 
> He broke the ankle six weeks before shooting began for season three. "Young male stupidity, really," he says. "I didn’t see any point in lying about it to anyone afterward." After a night out in London, he returned home to discover that he had left his keys inside his apartment. He had climbed up to his second-floor window once before, and that gave him a false sense of drunken self-confidence. He doesn’t remember exactly what happened next, only that his flatmate later found him in agony on the sidewalk and that the doctors afterward would be astonished that anyone who had broken his ankle in this way hadn’t also broken his leg and his hip. He called his agents the next day to share the news—"I’m really sorry, I’ve done a really stupid thing"—and was nervous for a long time that he had messed up the Game of Thrones job completely. In the end, they shot around him and, to Harington’s chagrin, a crew member with long black curly hair of his own that he was particularly fond of had to cut it to match Harington’s and act as his stand-in.
> 
> \- GQ (March 2014)

_June 2012, 1.30pm, London_

**Emilia**

_That idiot._

_That fucking idiot!_

Emilia was on the verge of crying as she anxiously flagged a taxi, hopped into it and practically shouted the address to the poor driver. She gazed out the window but wasn’t really seeing as she brought her fingers to her teeth and absently began chewing her nails. But that did little to alleviate the sheer anxiety, fear and worry she felt.

With her other free hand, she unlocked her phone and opened her texts. His name caught her eye. The last message she have sent him was regarding arrangements to go for comic con together. He hadn’t reply and that prompted her to call him to ask. It was then he told her. Emilia didn’t know if she should be angry or worried and truthfully, she was both. Angry because he didn’t think to inform her, as if she wouldn’t be the least bit concerned about him. Emilia could almost laugh at the absurdity of the mere thought of her not caring about him. Worried because he has gone and hurt himself, and there was next to nothing she could do.

_“Hello?” Kit had said as he picked up, sounding strangely hesitant._

_“For goodness sake, reply your texts Kitten!” Emilia told him exasperatedly; their usual joke._

_There was a pause before he said, “sorry, what was it about?” Emilia raised a brow at how courteous he was being, so unlike how she thought he’d reply her; no less than a ‘fuck you’ normally._

_“Comic con. You said we’d go together and you’d contact me when you get the details from your agent-“_

_“About that…” another pause and by this point, Emilia was getting suspicious that there was something wrong. The gut feeling, from the very moment he picked up and said ‘hello’, growing, “Um…well….”_

_“What’s wrong?” Emilia asked, biting her lip. Now she was really getting worried._ Maybe he doesn’t want to go together? After all, we’re not together anymore; no reason to appear at public events together and risk starting false rumours.

 _“I might not be going for Comic Con anymore,” Kit said eventually._ WHAT? _Emilia was short of shouting into the phone when Kit continued, in seemingly one breath, “I broke my ankle last night-“_

_Emilia did shout then, “WHAT? Are you okay? What happened? Does it still hurt? Have you been to the doc-“_

_Kit laughed, “slow down there Clarke,”_

_“Where the fuck are you?” Emilia spat into the phone, her tone more venomous than she intended._

_“At home-“_

_“The apartment in London?” Emilia clarified._

_“Yes, what-“_

_“See you in a bit,” with that, she hung up and was out the door._

Logically, Emilia knew a broken ankle was not at all serious; not in a life-threatening way. But just the thought of Kit being hurt, or being in any sort of pain, sucked the breath from her lungs and wrenched her heart mercilessly until she thought she would keel over.

She removed her finger from between her teeth and massaged her aching temple. She then caught a glimpse down at herself to see that she had forgotten to wear an outerwear in her rush out the door. She was wearing a thin threadbare shirt that would do little to shield her from the wind. It wasn’t particularly chilly in London this time a year but Emilia hated any sort of cold. She couldn’t even recall if she’d locked the door of her apartment but she held her keys with her phone.

“Sorry, Sir, if you could speed up a little please? I’m in a bit of a rush,” Emilia could not help herself as she leaned forward and told the driver as nicely as she could manage. The driver glanced in the rear view at her and nodded, wordlessly moving quicker.

She forced herself to sit back in the seat and clamped her mouth shut as she watched the buildings speed by. _Kitten, you better be fucking alright…_

The moment the taxi came to a halt at the sidewalk, Emilia quickly gave a large note to the driver, “thank you and please don’t bother,” she said as he dug for change. She then pushed the door open and ran from the taxi. She hit the lift button the moment she came to it but decided against it when the lift door took a moment to open. Emilia took the stairs two steps at a time, stumbling over the last one.

She came to the large white door and Emilia was so close to barging in but years of being schooled to be proper resulted in her knocking.

A beat.

She chewed her lips, “Kitten-“

The door flew open and Emilia almost threw herself at the person in a hug but at the glimpse of red, she paused.

She blinked, as did the person who opened the door.

“Um…” Emilia managed, suddenly very aware of how much she was panting. _Now what the fuck was her name again…_ “is it-“

“Rose, I can get it!” Kit said from inside the house. Rose turned from her and Emilia followed her gaze to see Kit emerging at the door. He was holding the door frame with his left hand, supporting himself. At the sight of him, Emilia felt her breathing begin to slow. His hair was longer than she remembered and his beard and moustache were nothing more than a stubble with his recent shave. Emilia glanced down to see his right leg in a cast right up to his knee. But apart from that, as far as Emilia could see, he looked fine. _Grossly handsome, as always._

Emilia almost keeled over then as she suddenly felt lightheaded from the relief that engulfed her. _He’s alright, Kitten’s alright._ Emilia told herself over and over as she glanced over him. Kit was gazing at her quietly, giving her the moment she needed to register his wellbeing and settle her racing heart.

“Oh my goodness,”

Emilia blinked and turned to Rose, as did Kit.

“You’re Emilia,” Rose gaped.

“Yes,” Emilia replied with ridiculous amount of trepidation considering the nature of the question. She then managed an uncertain chuckle, “I am. I don’t think we have been introduced officially,” she turned to Kit with a mock glare.

Kit blinked before he said, “Rose, Emilia, Emilia, Rose,” Kit said hastily, uncaringly.

“That’s rich,” Emilia snorted.

He rolled his eyes, “what else do you expect? Rose, this is Emilia Isabelle Euphemia Rose fucking Clarke,”

Her face burned in embarrassment of how long her name was but her heart skipped a beat at the way her full name sounded rolling off Kit’s tongue, “that’s not what I meant!” she snapped, “Git!”

“Got the first alphabet wrong again, so much being for best mates, Clarke,” Kit droned. Beside him, Rose laughed, a deep low, ladylike laugh. Kit glanced to her and smiled warmly, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. For a moment, Emilia felt like someone has wedged something down her throat, making it hard to breathe, much less speak.

“Um, anyway I should have asked before coming,” Emilia shifted from one foot to the next, awkward and suddenly unsure what to do with herself, “if I’m interrupting-” Emilia clasped her hands together, trying in vain to warm her cold fingers, that had nothing to do with the weather.

“No!” Kit said quickly and with his eyes, he told her, _stay._ She turned to him, surprised, “c-come in,” Kit limped back, “you’re not interrupting anything at all-” he stumbled over his cast and Emilia stepped forward hurriedly to steady him. But Rose caught him around the elbow before she could reach him.

“Be careful Kit,” Rose scolded but there was a tenderness to her voice that made Emilia look twice at the way her hands lingered on Kit’s forearm even as he regained his balance, “you’re terribly clumsy, no wonder you broke your ankle,” 

Emilia held her tongue against rebuking Rose’s claim about Kit that in her mind was entirely untrue. How could Kit be the least bit clumsy when he has always been the one saving her from planting her face to concrete multiple times? Kit could be stupid on occasions but never clumsy…

“You were the one who told me to break a leg. What else can I do but comply?” Kit replied cheekily, his lips slightly curved and Rose laughed, extremely tickled by Kit’s wit. _And why shouldn’t she be? Kitten’s a funny man; funny and charming,_ “but in any case, I wasn’t clumsy, I was drunk and trying to climb my way into my apartment when I couldn’t find my keys,”

_Stupid._

“Stupid then,” Emilia decided to voice her thoughts before she could fade entirely into the background. She didn’t think she could bear it if she did, especially with Kit right in front of her. She couldn’t bear to watch him go about his life and forget her. Emilia then realised she normally needn’t voice her thoughts, Kit would read it in her facial expression that Kit has always said practically spoke louder than her voice.

But this time, he wasn’t looking at her.

They both turned to look at her and Emilia suddenly felt like she was intruding, despite Kit’s express invitation into his apartment. Kit mocked a glare and when Emilia would normally come back with a witty response almost instantly, this time, she felt a sting. Kit raised her brow at her lack of a comeback and his feigned glare vanished instantly, “why are you standing there for? Come in and make me a cup of tea,” Kit lamented.

Emilia chuckled. Among the two of them, Emilia has always prided herself on how well she made tea and the variety of tea she always had stashed away. She has learned from her previous visits that Kit’s drawers were filled with a wide variety of tea. Her house and Kit’s house were probably the only two places, apart from a tea shop, where she would be satisfied with the variety of tea. Her lips parted to bicker with him.

“A little thirsty, are we?” Rose teased as she stepped aside for Emilia to enter.

Kit paused before he chuckled, “sorry, forgotten about the tea you’ve so kindly made, Ms Leslie. The first pot of tea you’ve made all year?” Rose laughed at Kit’s jape that was entirely lost on Emilia, “but you’ve really got to try the one Emilia makes, they’re…” Kit hesitated and glanced to her. He smirked and Emilia knew nothing good will come out of his mouth next, “above average,”

Emilia rolled her eyes, “heavenly you mean,” she stepped into the house and went straight to the kitchen with the large counter, the large oven and the many drawers that contained all the tea. _God… if only this was my house, I’d never leave… fuck you Kitten._

Emilia pulled open the drawer where she knew all the tea was in. The spread of tea she found was simply magnificent, for a lack of a better word to describe it. Emilia set a pot of water to boil before she reached for the overhanging cupboard where she knew the teapots and cups would be in.

“They’re right here,” a pale freckled hand beat her to the cupboard she was just reaching for, opening it. Emilia followed the hand to the owner. Rose smiled kindly at her as she pulled out a teapot and 3 cups. As she placed them on the counter, Emilia found herself taking a good look at Rose; her fiery red mane and blue eyes a stark contrast that made her stand out in a way that Emilia could only dream to with her own dull brunette hair and less brightly coloured blue eyes.

_Rose is beautiful._

Rose looked up to meet her eyes and Emilia couldn’t help but beam at her despite the lump in her throat, “thank you,” she chose the tea that she knew Kit would love the most and placed it on the counter, “Kit?” Emilia glanced behind Rose to find that Kit was nowhere to be found.

“The man has finally planted his bum down onto the sofa,” Rose feigned an exasperated sigh, “he’s been walking up and down, after a phone call-“ _after I told him I’d see him in a bit,_ “and wouldn’t sit down no matter what I said,”

Emilia laughed, “he will when you chuck him a book, or sit on him,” she checked the water.

Rose chuckled, “have you known him long?”

 _Have I?_ Emilia pondered, “not long,” she concluded, “about two years, when Thrones started,”

“Oh,” Rose paused, “I thought you two have known each other longer,”

“Why would you say that?” Emilia raised a brow and glanced to her. Rose has leaned up against the counter beside her.

She shrugged, “Kit just seems different around you,”

“Is he?” Emilia feigned disinterest as she picked up the tray to carry the tea and the cups when in reality, the thought that Kit was noticeably different around her made her heart leap with joy.

Rose nodded, “a little less awkward, I would say,”

Emilia laughed, “he damn well better be, it’s two years of my life I am never getting back,”

Rose chuckled as Emilia reached to pull the pot of water from the stove, “I can see why Kit’s that way, you’re easy to talk to,”

Emilia grinned, “am I winning you over too?” she poured the water into the teapot and began steeping the tea.

She laughed, “considered me won over, Emilia Isabelle…” Rose hesitated as she forgot the rest and Emilia blushed.

“Emilia Isabelle Euphemia Rose Clarke!” Kit yelled, “where did you go to get the tea? The North Pole?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Emilia snapped loudly and Rose laughed. Emilia bit her tongue, “sorry, I swear a lot,”

“No worries, Kit does too; entirely unapologetic,” she grinned, “let me help you with that,”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Emilia smiled and they made their way to the sitting area. As Rose said, Kit was sat on the sofa and as Emilia said, he was pouring over a book. Emilia set the tray on the table and stood beside him, “scoot the fuck over,”

Kit closed the book and feigned a deep frown, “this is my house, Clarke,” he put the book aside. He was gazing up at her, his deep brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Damn right, so I’m a guest,” Emilia countered.

“I’m a patient,” Kit gestured to his cast.

“I’m telling Deb-” Emilia snapped.

Before she could finish her threat, Kit tensed and scooted over, muttering grudgingly under her breath. He then turned to Rose and brightened up, “Rose! Sit down,” he gestured exaggeratingly to the couch beside the sofa.

Emilia rolled her eyes, ignoring the sting that she felt even if she knew Kit was only taking the piss out of her with what he said to Rose.

Rose laughed and said, “it’s fine, I have to go anyway,” she glanced to her phone.

Kit paused, “oh, right,” Emilia glanced to him, “you have to meet your friend,” Kit smiled warmly and Emilia hated the way she tensed at the discovery that Kit knew exactly what Rose was doing next. _Stop it, Emilia. It is in Kit’s right to make friends or even explore his options with another girl and Rose seems like a nice girl-_

Kit smirked, “charm him, you can do it. Use Ygritte’s aim and go straight for the heart,”

Emilia glimpsed Rose’s jaw tense as Kit teased her but Rose forced a smile onto her face and said, “well, I just might split his heart in two like how I split that arrow,” Rose smirked proudly.

Kit rolled his eyes, “keep that up and you’ll be on your next blind date before you can tell your mum no,”

“For the last time, it’s not a date,” Rose said exasperatedly. She picked up her bag and came to Kit. Leaning over, she pressed a kiss on the top of Kit’s head and they hugged briefly, “take care,” Emilia could hear Rose whisper to him as she patted down his mop of raven curls.

Kit nodded, “you too,” he patted her on her back, “thanks so much for coming and dealing with my shit,” he turned his head, seemingly to kiss her cheek. Like when she found out Kit was hurt, it instantly became hard to breathe; like something has wedged itself down her throat. Emilia averted her eyes then. She wasn’t sure herself if she was being respectful or simply couldn’t bear to watch their exchange, knowing there was probably something more there.

 _So what if there is? He is no longer yours._ A sneer. _You let him go, remember?_

Something that she told herself a long time ago then came back to her, haunting her: _you can’t have it both ways, Emilia._

_You couldn’t keep both your career and Kit. And now, you can’t keep Kit as both a best mate and your lover._

In fact, they haven’t been intimate since March, before the Rollingstones photoshoot. They didn’t consciously talk about it to stop but it gradually faded away amidst distance because of work. And soon, the act of falling into bed together once again became too foreign for them to even suggest it to the other; but for Emilia, not too foreign to dream of. In this time of total loss of contact, they met only once during a press conference for Thrones with Lena. In that time, between them, there were only platonic greetings in the form of warm hugs and kisses, brutal practical jokes and an abnormally huge amounts of laughter that made her cheeks ache. When Lena asked Emilia about it in the loo, Emilia has told her honestly that Kit and her were just best mates.

The lack of intimacy between them was sobering and definitely put their friendship into perspective for Emilia; further confirming for her that as she said almost half a year before, that she wanted Kit, forever, even as a friend.

To take her mind from Kit and Rose beside her and hopefully ease her breathing, Emilia reached to pick up the teacup only to realise they haven’t poured out the tea. Eventually, Rose straightened and waved to Emilia.

“Bye Emilia, see you…?” Rose’s voice trailed off, filled with uncertainty.

“At Comic con,” Kit finished for her, glancing between them.

“Oh thank God, you’re going too?” Rose asked before she slapped her forehead, “of course, you are Daenerys Targaryen,”

Emilia laughed, “see you there,”

Rose turned and Kit made to stand but Rose shook her head, “rest, I’ll find my own way out,”

Kit hesitated, probably feeling guilty after years of nagging from his mum about how to be a proper host and gentleman.

Emilia stood, “I got it,”

Kit flashed her a grateful smile, his hand automatically coming to pat her knee, “thanks,” he said, his eyes soft as he turned to her. Her stomach fluttered as she saw the look in his dark brown eyes.

 _Don’t, Emilia. Don’t delve into that. There’s nothing, nothing more than friendship._ “Pour the tea, they’re done,” Emilia snapped as she stood. Emilia sent Rose to the door.

At the door, Emilia made to follow her to the lift but Rose turned to her, “it’s alright, keep him company,” Rose smiled. Emilia returned the smile and nodded, “I’ve left his medications and all the other stuff from the hospital in his room. There are some painkillers in case he needs them,”

 _He called her at the hospital…_ She swallowed against the bitter taste settling on her tongue, “sure,” Emilia managed, still smiling like an idiot.

“Alright, I’ll see you at comic con then,” Rose cheered and grinned. Her smile lit her face, making her even more beautiful. Normally, Emilia knew she’d more than easily match Rose’s enthusiasm but at that moment, could manage nothing more than a chuckle and a nod, “bye!” Rose said as she stepped into the lift. Emilia waved and went back into the flat, closing the door behind her. When she turned to head back to the sitting area, Kit has already poured out the tea and was putting the milk in for her cup. _He remembers._

_“So you pretend it is the truth and you tell it to people,” Kit said._

_Emilia laughed, “you’re actually trying to teach me to lie,”_

_Kit rolled his eyes, “well I bloody wouldn’t have to if actually learn to as you develop a theory of mind,”_

_“Oh, so someone’s an expert at lying,” she teased and Kit shrugged nonchalantly but Emilia could tell that he was pretty confident. She decided to challenge him at it, “tell me a lie or a truth and I will be the judge of that,”_

_Kit grinned a boyish grin and in that moment, she thought he looked unbelievably handsome, “I love video games,”_

_Emilia narrowed her eyes at him, furrowing her brows before she said, “truth,” Kit chuckled and shook his head, “you’re horrible, a professional liar,”_

_Kit wrinkled his nose, “I wouldn’t say horrible, I actually hate lying,”_

_She studied him for a moment and Kit laughed as she tried to puzzle out if that was a lie as well, “lie,”_

_“Wrong, truth,” he said._

_She chewed on her lips, unwilling to be bested but inwardly admitting he was really good. She asked eventually, “is that a lie?” Kit chuckled, shaking his head. Before she can say anymore, their tea arrived. Emilia reached for her milk and poured. Feeling his eyes on her, she glanced at him, “don’t judge, I’m a milk-first kind of girl,” she bit her lips as she sipped at her cup of earl grey. She then reached for her sandwich. The next time she looked up at him, while sipping at her tea, Kit has had his camera in front of his face and aimed down at the food. He has been sneaking photos of her all day. Emilia was relieved it wasn’t aimed at her but amused at his current target._

_Emilia giggled, “what are you doing?” he lowered his camera from his face and Emilia thought his face was redder than usual; probably embarrassed at having been caught taking photos of the food._

_“Just taking photos,” he said simply._

_“Of the food?” Emilia laughed, biting into her mini sandwich._

_“Well, if someone allowed me to take photos of her, I wouldn’t have to resort to this,” he said._

Emilia has requested for a photo then with him, the only way she was willing to have her photo taken and Kit obliged. In all honesty, Emilia missed those days when they could hang out between filming; when she could have both Kit and work. Those days were long gone. Emilia supposed she should be thankful for them; they gave her Kit after all.  

As Kit finished adding exactly the amount of milk and sugar she loved, Emilia came back to the sofa. Kit glanced up to her, smiling, “thanks,” he grinned, “for sending Rose out and for the tea,” he brought his cup to his lips and sipped at the steaming cup. He sighed with a satisfied smile as he tasted it, “no one makes tea like you do, apart from my own mum,”

Emilia rolled her eyes, “I’m making you pay for my services soon,”

Kit shrugged, “no matter, I’m going to pay you in best mates points,”

“Might as well exchange it with sexual favours, at least you’re good at that,” Emilia blurted and instantly, her cheeks burned. _Great going Clarke, shooting your mouth off again._

 _Not that Kitten hasn’t heard it all._ Kit has always commented casually how filthy both her mind and mouth are. _He used to love it._

Kit paused before he laughed heartily. She let out a quiet breath of relief. _And he still loves it._ “Good to know my back-up career is still going strong,” he replied.

Emilia rolled her eyes before she glanced to his leg, “what the fuck happened, Kitten?”

He sighed and placed the cup of tea back on the table before replying, looking like he has told the story a million times, and he just might’ve; _to Rose_ , “was out drinking… and I came back to my apartment to realise I forgot my keys,” Kit paused, “so I decided to just climb in by the window…” Emilia scoffed at his stupidity and Kit instantly said, “hey, I’ve done it before!”

“Sober!” Emilia threw her hands up in exasperation, “you’re ridiculous,” she chided him immediately. Kit sank into his seat, gazing at his wrapped up foot in complete self-pity and Emilia felt a sting of guilt. In truth, she was only chiding him because of how worried he has gotten her when she heard, and how much her heart has ached at the thought of Kit being hurt in anyway, “how did you end up at the hospital?”

“Dan found me,” Kit muttered sullenly, “on the sidewalk,”

 _I’ve left his medications and all the other stuff from the hospital in his room. There are some painkillers in case he needs them_. Emilia recalled what Rose said, “where is Dan anyway?” Emilia glanced about the house.

“Out, meeting his mates,” Kit grumbled and Emilia had no doubt it was initially meant to involve Kit as well, “took off the minute he dropped me back off at the flat,”

Emilia couldn’t help the way it became easier to breathe to know that Rose wasn’t the only one who accompanied him back from the hospital, “probably didn’t want to impose on you and Rose,” she teased.

Kit snorted, “yeah right, probably was afraid I’ll make him fetch me a cup of tea,” he smirked then and Emilia could literally see the idea taking root in his mind.

She managed a small chuckle at the sight of Kit plotting to take the piss out of Dan, “don’t be a dick,” she snapped, pursing her lips against a smile. Kit rolled his eyes. Emilia mocked a glare at him and found her hand seeking him out. When she found his arm, her fingers touching his warm skin, she pinched him viciously on the back of his arm.

“OW!” Kit howled exaggeratingly, yanking his arm from her.

_“Cheer up, Kitten,” she grinned up at him, her cheek against his chest and her arms around his firm torso, “at least you have stellar company while waiting,” her heart skipped a beat when she felt Kit relax in her arms and his arm tighten around her shoulders._

_She watched, thrilled as Kit’s grumpy face slowly soften and his pouty lips smoothen into a small smile. Then she saw a flash of a smirk cross his lips before he pursed them against a smile. She watched fondly as Kit glanced around in feign confusion, “stellar company, where?” he asked, “I don’t see-“_

_Annoyance and a sort of fondness for this cheeky side of Kit seeped into her as Emilia pouted and she pinched his tricep in revenge, “ow!” he tensed up and howled exaggeratingly. She shushed him quickly. Embarrassed, she apologised to the people around them who turned to them curiously. He pulled his arm away from her fingers. She had pinched him on the arm not as viciously as it could be but her mercy did little to stop Kit from exaggerating his reaction and she found she adored him more for it, “you’re an abusive girlfriend!” he blurted his complaint dramatically and Emilia watched shock flitter across his face as he realised what he had said._

_Her heart leaped into her mouth in sheer surprise and_ joy _and her pout faded. She could only stare at him, her arms dropping from around his waist, to her lap._ Is that what you want, Kitten?

 _He blinked and said frantically, “I mean… you will be,”_ real smooth Kitten…

 _Her eyes not leaving him, she chuckled and Kit paused, studying her face almost obsessively._ You only have to ask Kitten, really.

_Realising he wasn’t going to say more, Emilia said then, “you deserved that, for being a complete arse, and for being grumpy,”_

_Kit protested, “not a_ complete _arse,” she rolled her eyes and turned from him haughtily; hell bent on teasing him like he did her. She knew her sass would frustrate him and ignite the fiery streak in him that refused to be snubbed._

“You deserved that,” Emilia blurted, “for being a complete dickhead,”

Kit paused and his eyes fell. Emilia knew then Kit recalled the exact moment she did and his next words only confirmed it, “not a _complete_ dickhead,” Kit protested, with a smile this time and his voice was softer than Emilia remembered his previous protest being, “I was right y’know,” Kit chuckled softly, almost bitterly. He still wasn’t meeting her eyes as he gazed down at the space between them, “you really were an abusive girlfriend,” he laughed a hollow laugh and Emilia felt a sting, right in the space where Kit used to, and still, so very completely occupy.

 _Fuck,_ she thought then, _I miss this fucking prat. So. Damn. Much._

Despite her desire to laugh, Emilia felt tears begin to prick her eyes and she blinked them away hurriedly before Kit could look up to see. She forced a laugh and said, her traitor voice wavering, “no I wasn’t, you were a dick,” she rose from her seat, wanting to excuse herself to the loo to gather herself before she started properly crying in front of him and completely embarrass herself.

“Where are you going?” Kit quickly asked beside her.

Resolving not to meet his eye, Emilia muttered a reply, “going to the loo,”

His hand caught hers then. _Shit._ “Don’t go,” he said. _Don’t hide._ He thought and she could hear him as if he have said it out loud. She blinked, sure she wasn’t going to cry before she turned to look at him. Kit was finally looking at her, his brows knitted together and his eyes searching her face. His lips were turned down in a frown. Worry was etched to his handsome features and Emilia’s first instinct was to see that removed from his face and replaced by the brightest, most happiest smile.

She hadn’t even realised she lived for his smiles until now; the most difficult, rarest of smiles but undeniably the most beautiful, in her eyes at least.

His grip slowly slackened so that he was now holding her hand gently. It was then Emilia became very aware of how warm his large hand was around hers, how familiar his touch was; how much like home it felt.

It took Emilia all the self-restraint she had in a petite five-foot-two body to refrain from lacing their fingers together and feeling for herself once more, how her small hand would nestle in his so comfortably. She wanted to bring his hand to her face and nuzzle her cheek to the back of it. She knew he’d smile, so warmly and so sweetly, then. Kit blinked slowly before his eyes fell to their hands, his gaze soft. The affection in his eyes was palpable and Emilia was overwhelmed with both joy and fear to see it. When his thumb began caressing her skin and his fingers began moving, as if to entangle with hers, Emilia panicked and yanked her hand from his.

Kit tensed, his hand frozen where it last held her for a moment before it fell heavily in defeat.

“Loo,” Emilia muttered, more to remind herself than Kit, before she fled to the loo; not short on running there. When she got there, she quickly closed the door and pressed her back to it as if afraid Kit would barge in. She locked it.

Her heart was pounding against her chest heavily.

_What the fuck is wrong with you, Clarke?_

_Whatever it is, that is in the past now…_

_Kit was moving on fine; until you brought up the past._ _He’s fine now…fine and with Rose, probably. She’s a nice person and she will- she has taken such good care of him._

_And you are the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world._

Tears flooded into and filled her eyes. Emilia sniffed, wiping frantically at her eyes. _You said you will be happy for him if he is happy and he IS happy now!_

 _Don’t be a fucking coward._ She buried her burning face into her hands. _Don’t cry Emilia… don’t._

At the thought that Kit might see her with red puffy eyes and will probably get even more worried, Emilia pulled herself to the sink. She looked into the mirror to see that her eyes were red rimmed but, thankfully, not yet swollen. Releasing her bottom lip from her teeth, she let out a shaky breath to steady herself and stem her tears. Leaning over the sink, she turned the tap on, collected a palmful of water and began washing her face.

Emilia knew she missed Kit; as a lover, as a boyfriend, as her other piece in this world. The dull, and almost constant, ache in her gut which intensified when she saw him made denying it pointless. She knew sometimes she’d miss him so much she’d tear at the slightest reminder of what they had. She knew how she’d stare at her phone, for hours at a time, contemplating if it would be inappropriate to call Kit up just so she could listen to his voice. She knew how memories of how they were would make her laugh out of the blue making her look clinically insane in public. She knew in her dreams, she would still be with him-

A loud thud sounded outside and she jumped.

_Kitten!_

She shut the tap and yanked open the door but it didn’t budge for she had locked it. Cursing, she unlocked it and pulled the door open. She ran towards the living room and found Kit sprawled on the floor, cursing colourfully. She didn’t know if she has made a sound but in the midst of trying to prop himself up with his arms, Kit looked up.

Emilia couldn’t remember how she got there but she was at his side, on her knees, in an instant. She reached to pull him up but the moment she helped him to sit up, Kit cupped her face in his hands.

“ **Are you alright?** ” she asked, only to ask the same time he did.

She blinked, “what are you asking me for?” she asked incredulously, “come on, up you get-“ she tried to loop her hand under his arm to help him up and onto the chair.

But Kit shrugged her hold off. She met his eyes to see them searching her face like they did before she left for the loo, “you were crying,” Kit wasn’t asking.

No matter how hard Emilia tried not to, she flinched but she couldn’t avert her eyes for her face remained blissfully trapped between Kit’s gentle hands.

“I made you cry,” Kit mumbled and his face contorted in a sort of pain that Emilia knew had nothing to do with his leg, even if it _must’ve_ hurt him when he fell.

Emilia blinked and glanced over him, still sitting on the floor, “come on, get up first,” she said firmly and Kit relented; releasing her face from its warm cradle. She helped him up to his feet and made sure he was steady before she bent to pick up his crutches from the floor. With them, Kit made his unsteady way to the settee. Watching him move about, Emilia could see how he ended up sprawled on the ground. When he sat on the settee heavily, she took his crutches from him and asked, “does your leg hurt a lot? Do you need your painkillers?”

 _I’ve left his medications and all the other stuff from the hospital in his room. There are some painkillers in case he needs them_.

Emilia ignored the bitter bile that threaten to rise from her gut and searched Kit’s face for any sign of pain at all from his leg. But Kit merely gazed at her unblinkingly, his face revealing nothing, “I’m sorry… whatever I did-“

Realising he was still caught up with his discovery that she has cried, Emilia said airily, “I didn’t cry and least of all not for you,” she put on her most convincing eye roll. Kit cringed, whether at her poor lie or her harsh words she didn’t know but she went on. _It is too late to say anything else anyway…_ “my contacts were just fucking dry and I was fixing them in the loo,” putting on her best annoyed expression, she rolled her eyes, “till you decided to be a fussy baby,”

Kit paused, his eyes darting between hers. It was obvious he was contemplating if he should drop it and move on or badger her about it. There wasn’t a doubt in Emilia’s mind that Kit could see right through her blatant lie. _Lie._ He was probably thinking this very moment. But as well as Kit knew her inability to lie, he also knew she would only say things at her own time; like him.

Eventually, Kit snorted, “fucking hell,” Emilia let out a breath. _He decided to let it go._ “and here I am worried about you enough to get off my arse,”

“Stupid,” Emilia giggled tentatively, “as usual,”

Kit scowled, “go get me my painkillers damn it. This fucking hurts,” he whined and glared down at his leg, wrapped firmly in his cast.

Rolling her eyes, she stood and went to fetch them, “at least _try_ to be a man, Kitten,” Kit promptly gave her the finger.

On the way to his room, she giggled to herself as she recalled the incredulous look on his face when he first heard the nickname she has been using for him since the first day she met him.

_Kit blinked and laughed at the nickname, “Kitten?”_

_“Yeah,” she smiled confidently; resolving to call him that regardless of what he’d say about it._

_“That is probably the least manly nickname for a man,” Kit said with a frown._

_“Manly?” she jabbed his abdomen with a finger, “you’re the softest person I know,” Kit scowled, shying away from her finger. She knew he was ticklish. Then she looked at him. Suddenly engulfed by adoration for the man before her, she continued, “and the kindest. Gentlest. The most loving. The best. Thank you,”_

She picked up his medication from the bedside table. _And you still are, Kitten._

She glanced over his room to see the bed and instantly, her face flushed. They have fucked on this very bed; one of the most intense and pleasurable shag she has ever had, both physically and emotionally. It was the first time they were together platonically and intimately after their breakup. And all through their supposed shag in which Kit thrusted brutally into her, making her body tremble with crippling amounts of pleasure, Emilia was trying in vain to hold herself together.

But the way Kit worshipped her body with soft kisses and lingering touches, and the way he pressed himself to her as they came together, had her unravelling around him in the sweetest way possible and left her laying her heart open for him in the aftermath. She could still remember his warm weight on her, every inch of his body pressed to the back of hers, his cock twitching as it softened in her. Her face only burned more intensely as she recalled the difficulties she had to even make it to the loo the next morning, owing to the sweet soreness that covered her limbs and her nether region.

Emilia blinked, embarrassed as she felt wetness pool between her legs. _Stop it!_

Emilia scolded herself as she turned from the bed and headed back to the living room to give Kit his painkillers.

* * *

“I left the leftovers in the fridge, alright? You and Dan can have them tomor-” Emilia paused as she turned to see Kit fast asleep on the couch, his legs on the coffee table. Drying her hands on the tea towel on the counter, she made her way over to Kit quietly, all the while contemplating if she should wake him to move to sleep in the bedroom.

Slowly, she sank into the space beside him on the couch. Kit’s head was lolled back on the backrest of the settee. In his lap, there was a closed book. She picked it up and gazed over the cover. _Poems._

_“What are you reading?” Emilia asked._

_“Poems,” Kit replied, his eyes fixed on the book he held as he read. Her gaze fell over his handsome face then and Emilia felt a sudden gratefulness that she could have this wonderful man; and that he loved her so, as she loved him._

_She smiled. She already knew he used to write poems and loved poetry, “what kind?” she asked curiously._

_Kit grinned a boyish grin and Emilia knew he’d say something she would giggle at, “the kind that would ensure I got shagged regularly,” Emilia laughed and a pleased smile crossed Kit’s face. She wasn’t blind. Her laughter has always brought Kit’s and when she realised, she wanted to laugh more than she usually would; just so he would smile. When her amusement quelled, she caught Kit gazing at her unblinkingly, a painfully tender look in his eyes, his hand brushing her hair._

Emilia smiled as she put the book aside. Biting her lips, her gaze unwittingly settled on Kit’s sleeping visage. A light stubble dotted his cheek, chin and around his lips, getting thicker at his jawline and chin. Her heart quickened as her eyes memorised every curve and ridge of the perfect features on his face; his brows, his nose, his cheeks, his cheekbones, his jaw, and his lips.

Kit’s brows were slightly furrowed in his sleep and the lines on his forehead were faintly visible. For a moment, Emilia wondered if his leg still hurt even now. She tried to observe it on his face through the day but Kit was constantly very aware of her watching him and his face was always even, revealing nothing, even when he stumbled on his crutches while trying to get to the counter to eat. It hurt her to watch him in pain _and_ try to hide his pain from her. _Poor Kitten…if it could be me instead of you, I’d rather it be me… you know that, don’t you?_

Raising a shaky hand, she traced his jaw with the back of her fingers, savouring the feel of the roughness of his beard. The furrows between his brows smoothen just so and Emilia smiled, happy to be able to ease his suffering, even a little. Caressing him across his jawline, her gaze fell and lingered on his lips, and especially on the little mole on the right corner of his bottom lip that she adored. As if with a mind of their own, her fingers crept towards it, tenderly brushing over it.

She could still remember how it felt to kiss him there and how his eyes would light up when she showed him just how much she loved his little imperfection. Unable to resist a smile, she glanced over Kit’s face.

She froze.

Kit’s eyes were no longer closed but wide open.

And he was looking right at her.

She panicked then, wondering how long he has been awake and watching her gaze at his lips longingly, all the while caressing him. The fact that he has been awake and did not even move an inch, remaining completely relaxed under her touch, warmed her nicely. But his thoughts, which she was not privy to through his handsome and serene face, scared her. If he yearned her touch, she would be frightened, if he didn’t, she would be hurt. Either way, it did bode well for both of them.

Emilia blinked and swallowed, steeling herself to chide him coldly with an excuse she literally pulled out of her arse, “for goodness sake, Kitten, eat like a grown man for once,” she failed miserably with her tone, coming across with a soft tender tone instead of an iron, curt tone that she intended. She chalked it up to years of honing her bedside manners, _and definitely not any remnants of ‘feelings’ of any sort._

_No, definitely not any of that nonsense. Not anymore._

Kit did not flinch or even react to what she said. But he did when Emilia realised she still touched him and hurriedly dropped her hand from his face. His lips parted to speak. It was then Emilia realised she did not want to hear what he has to say even if she was yearning to hear his voice.

“Does your leg still hurt?” she asked hastily.

Kit licked his lips to moisten them to speak and her heart skipped a beat at the sight, “a little,”

She felt a sting at his admittance but was immensely proud of herself to be able to hide it, “you deserve it for being so stupid-“

“It’s your fault,” Kit croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse, a twinkle of mischief in his brown eyes.

She blinked, “what?!” she scowled. _Stupid Kitten, intentionally putting this one on me and trying to make me feel guilty for his entertainment-_

“I can’t stop Jon, so…” Kit grinned but Emilia was still puzzled, not knowing what he referred to, “it’s not an arm but it’s something…” he patted his thigh of his injured leg and suddenly, she remembered; their silly little in-bed banter, a moment that the thought of made her heart skip a beat.

  _“You? Jealous?” Kit scoffed. Emilia rolled her eyes before she averted his gaze altogether and stared to the side; embarassed. Kit chuckled before resting his forehead to hers, “you have nothing to be jealous about,” he whispered, his voice warm and assuring._

_“Oh really?” she muttered. It was obvious he did not have a clue what she was on about._

_He raised a brow._

_“I’ve finished the second book…” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the window by her bed. Bitter jealousy rose to settle in her mouth even at the thought of Kit being intimate with anyone but her, even if it is just pretending. Emilia knew that as actors, her jealousy was pointless but she couldn’t help it. She wanted this man, all to herself. She wanted to be his as she wanted all of him._

_Kit paused before he realised and laughed, looking entirely too happy, “ah… what was her name? The wildling? Ygritte.” Kit grinned, looking so strikingly good then, Emilia was caught between the urge to slap him or kiss him._

_He seemed to be enjoying this new side of her that she tried so hard not to show to him before now; the possessive, jealous and yet ashamed-to-be-jealous-and-possessive Emilia. She supposed she should be feeling ashamed of herself, especially for being jealous so irrationally, but with Kit gazing at her so adoringly like she was the best person in the world, she couldn’t possibly think any less of herself._

_Nonetheless, Emilia did not reply him. She furrowed her brows and pursed her lips, not appreciating his teasing. Chuckling, he dipped his head to kiss her. Her reply was dismal but she couldn’t stop herself from reciprocating no matter how annoyed she was trying to act, “Emilia…” he whispered against her lips, taking her bottom lip between his teeth teasingly. She loved it when he did that. Emilia melted. Trying to salvage any remnants of her pride, she pulled back, fighting a smile._

_“Emilia,” he murmured, nuzzling her cheek the way she loved, “Emilia,” he grinned, kissing her cheek soundly. She cracked a smile then as she shied away. The way her name sounded, rolling off his tongue so tantalisingly; the very same tongue she wanted to taste, “Emilia-“_

_“Kit,” she stopped short of shying away, her gaze settling on him once more. He smiled at her, looking too happy and she rolled her eyes, pinching her lips against a smile. She could never resist his eyes and his smile and she wasn’t starting now, “Jon sleeps with her,” she stated bluntly, reluctant to let him wiggle his way out of this topic; one that has been bothering her since she read it. Emilia knew she has to accept it eventually but she wanted Kit to know her heart; he always knew what to say to make her feel better._

_Kit sighed, nodding, “yes,” he mused, “and I can’t stop Jon. He’s a horny young man just sworn into a sacred order that practices celibacy. The regret runs deep,” he said sagely, “and I totally sympathise. My boy has no idea what he’s been missing,” Kit grinned, kissing her neck with a kiss so full of promise._

_Emilia giggled._

_He grinned at the sound of her giggle, “that’s Jon,” he told her then, his grin fading as he gazed solemnly at her. She met his eyes, glancing between them for a moment and stayed silent. She truly appreciated his effort to make her feel better but the bitter uncertainty stubbornly remained. Whatever Kit saw in her eyes, it made him frown, displeased. It made him dip his head to kiss her sweetly, “that’s Jon,” he whispered against her lips; a promise, “that’s Jon,” she smiled against his lips, feeling her uncertainty fade away with each loving whisper and kiss. Emilia was in awe then for this man just_ loved _her jealousy away._

_Probably feeling her smile, Kit eagerly withdrew. Gazing dazedly at her lovely smile, looking determined to keep it there, he grinned, “I’ll find an excuse and they’ll get a body double,”_

_She laughed, “and what excuse will Kit I-am-really-good-at-lying Harington use?”_

_Kit smiled as he pondered, pleased he made her laugh, “I could break an arm…” he shrugged._

_She looked horrified at the idea, much less it actually happening. She scowled, “don’t you dare!” Emilia snapped fiercely. Her hand which was caressing his arm clutched him protectively, warning him._

_He chuckled, “how else will I get out of it-“ she panicked, cupping his face. He kept quiet then._

_Emilia bit her lips and shook her head, her gaze never leaving him as she said thickly, and truly, “I trust you,” as the words left her, Emilia realised she meant it. She truly did trust him; with her body and with all of her heart._

_Kit’s eyes searched her face and she knew he would see the truth of her words. And he did, “thank you, Milly,” he replied hoarsely, his voice thick with gratefulness. He smiled. His smile reached his eyes, making the edges of them crinkle beautifully and Emilia felt her heart begin to pound, breathing became difficult and for a moment, he was all she saw._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some scenes from the First Verse here but the ones here are slightly different as they are from Emilia's POV when we read them from Kit's POV in the First Verse! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, regardless of there being more of Rose! 
> 
> Please do leave me a comment to let me know what you think of this chapter!


	10. Paparazzi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Game of Thrones' -- Badass Female Star DATING Badass Male Star  
> \- TMZ (2012)  
> http://www.tmz.com/2012/08/24/game-of-thrones-jon-snow-ygritte-kit-harington-rose-leslie-dating/
> 
> Pictured: Game of Thrones' Emilia Clarke steals a kiss from Family Guy creator Seth Macfarlane on romantic lunch date  
> \- dailymail (2012)  
> https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2208581/Game-Thrones-Emilia-Clarke-steals-kiss-Family-Guy-creator-Seth-MacFarlane-romantic-lunch-date.html

_August 26 th 2012, 1am, Morocco. _

**Emilia**

_Is this what it feels like when you saw me with Jason a year back?_

Her stomach turned and sank heavily, threatening to have her completely throw up her dinner. The spot where her heart, which has once quickened, warmed and skipped one too many beats for him, now felt cold, still and painfully hollowed out; also for him. Her feet felt frozen and she was momentarily unable to feel her toes so she shifted to bring her feet under her, in an unsuccessful attempt to warm them up. Her hands were cold as well but she did not move to put down her phone.

She simply could not take her eyes off the photo, even if the sight of it clawed at and squeezed her insides ruthlessly, hurting her so much so it was hard to breathe.

She never could keep her eyes off of him anyway. _Not before, not now._ She almost laughed bitterly at her plight. Despite her best efforts, her vision blurred and she blinked to clear it only to feel hot tears, that she didn’t know welled up in her eyes, sear a path down her cold cheeks before dripping off her chin.

_He looks happy. He looks beautiful._ A wistful smile spread across her lips as she recalled how perfect he looked whenever he smiled like that; whenever he smiled that smile that was always reserved for her, in their more private moments.

He was a man who did not smile often and simply refused to sell his smiles to the press. It was infuriating at first but after a time, Emilia found she cherished his smiles more for it. She would be assured that every smile he gave her was genuine. And overtime, without her realising this until now, when she has lost it, his smiles became absolutely precious to her.

When he smiled, his eyes would crinkle at the edges and Emilia would find herself having to resist from caressing his cheek and brushing the crinkles with her fingertips. His upper lip would curl to reveal his teeth and almost entirely disappear; urging her to uncover it again with her own lips. And _his laugh lines_... Emilia wondered how different his smile would look now with his thicker beard.

Then unwittingly, her eyes wandered to see the photo in its entirety once more and she was yanked to the reality in which his smile was no longer only reserved for her, but for another. Someone Emilia herself loved dearly as well; someone who could probably do for him what she couldn’t; someone who could give up for him what she wouldn’t; someone who could probably love him better than she ever could.

And that was what was on Emilia’s mind when she gave Rose her blessing as Kit’s best mate; even if she didn’t think she could bear even the thought of him belonging to someone else and having someone else. In that moment, what she felt had simply seemed so small and unimportant to her in comparison to Kit’s happiness.

Emilia roughly wiped her eyes to clear them when blinking no longer could. She scrolled down to another photo that instantly made her nausea and a sob broke from her.

But Emilia did not look away. She did not want to.

She made herself look.

_He is happy. And-_

Emilia pressed her hand over her mouth, muffling a ragged sob that came straight from her heart and tore from her throat.

_And he is in love._

_It is what you wanted for him. For him to find someone who would and could love him better than you. You knew he couldn’t do without someone; you’ve always known. So you encouraged it, you encouraged both Rose and him. Don’t you fucking dare to go back on that now. Don’t be a coward._

With that, Emilia steadied her shaking hand and scrolled down, steeling herself for more photos; like the one of them ‘sucking a little face’ as the tabloid so subtly hinted. There was nothing. That was the end of that article. Her phone locked with a soft click and Emilia saw a blurred outline of herself on the dark screen of her phone.

Emilia let it fall from her trembling fingers and into her lap. Letting out a shaky breath, Emilia buried her red, tear-stained and clammy face into her hands. No matter how much she tried not to, she cried all the same.

She ran out of tears quickly, too quickly and as she sucked in a thin, ragged breath just enough to keep her conscious, Emilia clung onto that one thought that made all this better; _Rose is better for him._

_Rose loves him better than I ever could. And it is what Kitten deserves; to be happy, to be loved._

And the night that Emilia saw this for herself, she could never forget.

_Rose laughed heartily, losing all the demure demeanour that Emilia has recognised Rose for since she met her. After a few days spent together in San Diego for Comic Con and the other accompanying parties, Emilia has slowly gotten to know and has come to love Rose. Rose was a friendly, kind- hearted and humorous lady. And with a little alcohol, Emilia discovered the less-widely-known but incredibly fun, almost wild, side of Rose._

_The two of them hit it off with easy and never-ending conversation and they felt comfortable and safe with each other in a place in which both felt vulnerable. They were so comfortable so much so that they were almost inseparable in these events; even visiting the loo together where they realised they would get some much needed breaks in between all the press. Together, hours of press passed by in the form of a blur of light-headed giggles._

_And even after the draining events in the day, the two ladies were found in Emilia’s hotel room, chatting and giggling late into the night. Tonight was one such night with promises, courtesy of alcohol, of being fun._

_“I can’t believe you did that, truly,” Rose chuckled._

_Emilia giggled loudly, “I couldn’t resist honestly…”_

_“Imagine what the press will think if they caught a picture of it…” Rose muttered._

_Emilia snorted, “who the fuck cares?” Emilia laughed, feeling hot and fuzzy in the middle from the alcohol. It made her giggly too, “who’ll run the world, dykes!” she giggled before collapsing into her bed against the pillows._

_A weirdly quiet moment passed before Rose chuckled, “my parents will have my head probably,”_

_Rose’s sombre tone which she tried to conceal snapped Emilia out of it. She craned her neck up from the pillow to gaze at Rose, “seriously?” Emilia raised her brows and asked, concerned._

_Rose shrugged, “they’re traditional,”_

_Emilia nodded slowly as she thought, as much as her drunk fuzzy mind could, “makes sense. I mean… you live a castle with a family crest for fuck’s sake.”_

_Rose laughed, nodding, “but I guess they have nothing to worry about when they find out the girl I held hands with publically is Emilia fookin’ Clarke,” Rose dipped her voice an octave lower and slapped Emilia on the thigh soundly but affectionately._

_Emilia jerked and howled dramatically as her skin stung where Rose slapped her. Rose laughed at her before rolling her eyes and rubbing out the spot she slapped, “what are you on about?” Emilia rolled her eyes._

_Rose winked, dropping hints but Emilia was completely puzzled. Eventually, Rose gave up and said exasperatedly, “you could not stop laughing at that bloke’s joke and he is completely enamoured with you,”_

_If anything, what Rose said made her brow rise even higher, “what bloke?” Emilia frowned and began to search her mind for the bloke Rose was referring to. Her eyes widened when only one bloke who she actually spent time with, and who she remembers, came to mind, “ALFIE?!” Emilia shot up from the bed._

_Rose choked on her wine and Emilia chortled, rolling back into the bed. Rose rolled her eyes magnificently before she fell forward onto the bed beside Emilia so Rose lay on her tummy, “MacFarlane!” The name did not ring a bell at all and Emilia could only stare blankly at Rose, “Seth. Mr Family Guy, Mr I-can-do-a-tonne-of-different-impressions-Emilia-Clarke-notice-me-please,”_

_Then it came to Emilia, “ohhhhhh,” she slurred, giggling at how Rose described the bloke, “Seth,”_

_“Yes, Seth,” Rose grinned, “You were completely hammered weren’t you? Do you even remember the poor bloke?”_

_“Kind of?” Emilia said hesitantly as she gazed up at the ceiling, trying hard to recall Seth amidst the alcohol, music, dim lighting and giggles. He was a funny bloke and great at doing voices which reduced her to tears a couple of times but Emilia was hard-pressed to recall anything else, even his face._

_“Here,” Rose shoved her phone in Emilia’s face, startling her a little, “Gods, what the poor sod did to try to impress you and you don’t even remember him,”_

__

_Emilia blinked to see the photo properly without her glasses and through the tipsy haze, “oh him!” she squinted. He looked different from Emilia’s alcohol-polluted memory._

_“He’s a little too old but pretty cute,” Rose commented airily beside her, “and he is hilarious,” Rose nudged her, “it’s what you like in blokes innit?”_

Yes but I also like curly, raven head and warm chocolate brown eyes in blokes. _Emilia glanced to Rose but then quite purposefully avoiding Rose’s gaze, “yeah…” Emilia managed a reply, trying to pacify Rose as she cracked her head open for a way to divert Rose from this topic in case she figured out Emilia was completely uninterested in Seth and why that was the case._

 _“Wait…” Rose said and Emilia tensed, afraid. Rose’s cold freckled hand covered Emilia’s and Emilia swallowed visibly as she forced herself to meet Rose’s intent gaze, “Em…” Rose’s brows shot up in sympathy and Emilia wondered if she would confirm it if Rose asked her._ Are you keeping yourself for someone? Is that person- _“I’m sorry I joked about it before… are you a lesbian, Emilia?”_

_Emilia blinked, stunned._

_“I mean I thought you were definitely straight as a ruler... what with all the jokes about pricks… I’m sor-“_

_Emilia laughed raucously, startling Rose, “s-sorry,” Emilia managed through her giggles. Rose laughed hesitantly with her as she waited for Emilia to settle down, “I’m not a lesbian, Rose,” Emilia giggled, “don’t worry,” she smirked._

_Rose rolled her eyes and parted her lips to reply but Emilia saw the opportunity to turn the topic from herself and took it._

_“Are you?” Emilia kept her smirk on._

_Rose shook her head, “no,” then Rose fell into a sudden solemnness that rarely happened. Rose took a breath and continued, “Em, do you think I’m a good person?”_

_Emilia raised a brow and immediately did what she always did best, protecting her friends, “of course you are!”_

_“Really?” Rose asked weakly._

_“Yes!” Emilia replied firmly._

_“Do you think I’m… desirable?” Rose continued._

_Despite the nature of the question, Emilia replied, “of course! You’re beautiful and fit,” she gazed over Rose’s bright blue eyes, fiery red hair that was naturally straight and fell nicely even if she had just rolled out of bed and her sharp angled jaw that ensured she would never have that double chin that Emilia herself constantly fought to hide, “if I were a bloke, I’d wife you up real quick,”_

_Rose laughed at her reply but it was a half-laugh; weak. Rose huffed, in frustration, as she fell flat onto her stomach, “then why doesn’t he ask me out or seem remotely interested in me as anything more than a mate?”_

_Emilia rolled into her stomach to gaze down at Rose. She asked curiously, “who?”_

_“Kit,” Rose moaned out in complain as she buried her face into the bed._

_Emilia’s stomach sank, “what do you mean?” speaking through the huge wedge in her throat, Emilia said, “you two looked…close the last time I saw you both at his flat,”_

_Rose sighed deeply before she said, “he is lovely to me…” Rose admitted, “but that is just who he is to people,” Rose gazed ahead dazedly and Emilia knew Rose was thinking of him at this very moment; the look in Rose’s eyes were undeniable, “he doesn’t see me as anything more than a mate,” she huffed in exasperation. For a moment, Emilia felt her heart lift and she probably has not felt this happy for the longest time._ There’s nothing between Kit and Rose… _Emilia realised, contrary to what she thought back when she saw Rose in Kit’s flat. Emilia felt so happy, she was disgusted at herself._

_“Really?” Emilia asked. Her voice was shaky so she cleared her throat and Rose looked up, nodding sadly, “why do you say that?”_

_Rose frowned, gazing down at her fingers as she replied, shrugging, “I don’t know. I just don’t think he sees me as anything more… for starters, he hasn’t asked me out for a date, or try to hold my hand, much less kiss me. I mean if you like someone you’d want to touch them, wouldn’t you? He doesn’t even initiate meet-ups, I am always the one initiating them. God, he barely even replies my texts!”_

_Watching Rose’s sad demeanour, Emilia felt her happiness begin to sizzle out, “well…” Emilia scratched the back of her neck, “Kit is horrible at texting,”_

_Rose looked up then, her curiosity peaked._

_“It’s true. And he is awfully dull when it comes to girls and reading how they feel,” Emilia lied. Kit was probably the most intuitively sensitive bloke Emilia knows._ For goodness sake, he knows what I’m thinking when my right eyebrow twitch but it’s a white lie to cheer Rose up and ain’t going to hurt anybody. _Emilia told herself._

_“He is?” Rose frowned, looking puzzled._

_“Aren’t all blokes that way?” Emilia laughed, nervous Rose would read too much into their relationship if Emilia said too much about Kit._

_Rose eventually nodded slowly, “yeah… they are pretty clueless,”_

_“Exactly!” Emilia said, encouraged that Rose was no longer wallowing in sorrow._

_“Yeah…” Emilia watch the pieces click into place in Rose’s head. Eventually, Rose slapped her forehead soundly, “I am an idiot… you’re his best mate, there’s no one who knows him better than you!”_ Apart from his mum… _Emilia thought,_ and his brother he grew up with, and his best mate Dan and his drama school friends- _“do you think Kit likes me?” Rose watched her almost pleadingly as she asked and Emilia did not have the heart to say what Rose wants to hear._

_But she did not have the heart either to say that Kit likes another and not Rose, what Emilia herself hoped, so Emilia settled for a question, “do you like him?_

_Rose nodded._

Who wouldn’t? _Emilia thought._

 _Emilia could roll her eyes at herself for asking such a stupid question. Kit was absolutely beautiful, charming and witty. Aside from that, he was loving, sensitive and attentive._ There is no one like him… _Rose said then, “he’s just so funny, stupidly funny but funny, you know? Like he doesn’t mind being the clown to make people laugh,”_

He hates that. _Emilia thought._ Kit hates sounding or looking stupid, and having people laugh at that… he’s witty and his jokes are always clever. He only loses the wittiness when he is uncomfortable and not confident but knows humour is always the way to go. _“Yeah,” Emilia muttered, trying to sound encouraging._

_However, Rose did not seem to notice Emilia’s apprehensive reply and continued, caught up in talking about Kit, “and he’s so handsome and manly; tough and brooding,”_

_The words immediately catapulted Emilia into a memory from a distant past._

Manly? You’re the softest person I know.

_Emilia remembered teasing Kit when he complained that her nickname for him was ‘not manly’. And she meant it but not in any undesirable way. Emilia did not fall in love with Kit’s chiselled muscles or his image as the tough brooding man for despite his image, Kit wasn’t tough or broody. He merely looked it and in fact, had a heart that was easily wounded and was cheery, most times. He did have his moments of brooding but it was far and few between their shared moments. If he was brooding, it was usually something; anxiety about filming or jealousy. Emilia almost let out a fond laugh as she recalled Kit’s numerous jealous moments-_

_“Em?”_

_Emilia blinked to see Rose staring at her, “sorry,” she stammered, “what did you say?”_

_Rose chuckled, “sleepy already?”_

_Emilia nodded, echoing her chuckle weakly, “a little…” she murmured, lost in thought._

_“Do you know anything about Kit’s ex?” Rose asked suddenly._

_It felt as if a couple of degrees fell in the room. She froze, “huh?” Emilia said stupidly._

_“Kit’s ex,” Rose repeated, giggling at Emilia’s apparent sluggishness that she probably attributed to the alcohol, “I heard from the boys that he was absolutely obsessed with her, almost joined at the hips…” Emilia’s gaze fell to the duvet and she did not reply._ Yes, we were….inseparable; until I broke us up, _“do you reckon he’s still not over her?”_

 _Her heart skipped a beat at that._ Could he still love me after all this time we spent apart? Could Kitten still love me after I gave us up for my own selfish reasons… _“I…I um-I dunno,” Emilia muttered. Rose raised a brow and Emilia glanced over before quickly averting her eyes, “he was really secretive about her… even to me. But could be…” Emilia swallowed her hope, not brave enough to harbour any hope._

_“I think he was dumped though…” Rose sighed, “you should’ve seen him after they broke up… he was not himself; drunk himself silly every night and barely spoke to anyone. The most he spoke in those days would probably be reciting his lines. That and mumbling in his sleep after he drank till he threw up and passed out. Broke my heart to see poor Kit like that… He was inconsolable…” Rose closed her eyes momentarily, “he really loved her,” This was the first time Emilia really heard from someone who first-hand saw how Kit was after their breakup and Emilia had to clench her jaw against the overwhelming emotions that flooded into her upon hearing how Kit was._

I know. I know he loved me. I love him. I always will…

But we are of the past now. _Silence fell between them and Emilia blurted the first thing that came to her mind, “you said you’re fond of him but do you love him?” she could not bring herself to look at Rose however._

_A beat passed, “I do…” Rose said quietly, a whisper and Emilia made herself look at Rose. The redhead was staring down with a distant look in her eyes but there was an undeniable spark in her blue eyes as she admitted it to herself. Her thin rosy lips were curved into a small resigned smile. The look on her face was plainly telling. And Emilia believed Rose; that she loves Kit. And in her time spent with Rose, Emilia could think of no one better for Kit. Someone as kind as she was beautiful; someone who loves him so, even if she didn’t think he loved her back; someone who would never give up on him no matter what happened._

Who could be better for him than her?

 _“Then… be kind to him, love him no matter what and tell him that,” Emilia forced a smile._ Make him happy. Do what I can’t; not now.

_“But-“ Rose hesitated._

_“He feels something, Rose,” Emilia said and as much as the words wrenched at her heart, she said it, “I can tell the last time I saw you two together. And you two get on, so well…”_

_“Really?” a small smile curved into Rose’s lips._

_“Yes,” Emilia said firmly, “don’t give up on him,”_ please don’t. Don’t do what I did. _Rose nodded, listening with rapt attention, “and when he is ready… he will accept you,”_

_Rose pursed her lips and nodded. Then she grinned and punched Emilia in the shoulder, “I assume I will have his best mate on my side?”_

_Emilia took a breath as subtly as she could manage before she forced a grin onto her face, “of course, Kitten wouldn’t stand a chance,” Emilia managed tightly._

_Rose did not notice as she laughed, “Kitten?”_

_Emilia had called him that without even realising it, “yeah… he hates that nickname,”_

_Rose grinned, “you know what I’ll be calling him that from now on,” Emilia could only manage a hollow laugh._

From that conversation on, true to her word, Emilia dropped tips to Rose whenever she could and teased Kit about Rose, over texts; never in person. Because they hardly meet as often and because Emilia simply couldn’t bring those words to her mouth; the very ones that her heart screams in protest against.

Evidently now, her half-hearted effort and Rose’s full effort have worked; effectively moving Kit. _You’ve succeeded, Emilia. Now don’t be a wuss and don’t you dare go back on your word._

_Rose is better for him and Kit has truly moved on. At least now you know he is no longer hurting. He is loved and he is happy; as he deserves to be, always._

Emilia clung onto the light that came with that thought, no matter how dim it is.

Her phone vibrated in her lap then and Emilia looked down. With trembling fingers, she picked up her phone to see it was a text from Seth.

Seth has recently started texting her with the excuse of ‘catching up’ after their night spent at the party; the very one Emilia hardly remembered in her drunken stupor. She didn’t even remember giving Seth her number, as he claimed when she asked how he got it over text. Emilia had thought up numerous excuse to turn him down gently, hoping he’d get the hint but Seth was persistent.

He called her once or twice and Emilia had picked up reluctantly only to find herself laughing into some pretty strong stitches a few minutes into the phone call. Seth made her laugh; that fact was undeniable and Emilia could see herself keeping Seth as a mate for a long time, if nothing but for the laughs and for the connections he afforded her in this industry.

But he obviously wanted more. Most men did from her.

 **How are you? What are you up to?** Emilia stared down at the message, thinking, _I am depressed and it’s fucking 1 in the morning. What else do you think I am doing?_ But Seth was evidently oblivious to the time difference. _Kitten will never forget it. He’d be concerned I was online._

 **I’m good.** She lied, simply because she knew he wouldn’t care anyhow. **Nothing much. And you?** Emilia typed out and sent it, feeling cold and empty and lonely.

 **Good, thank you.** He had even sent a heart with it. **Dinner together soon? I miss your laugh.** She stared at it for a long while. _I’d better bring it with me to the dinner then, like I always am expected to._

Emilia dismissed the message and closed the app, bent on ignoring him since her previous rejections have gone by unnoticed anyway. But as the app closed, her previous window came up and Emilia stared at the picture on the tabloid site.

_He’s moved on, Emilia. It’s time you did too…_

Emilia stared at Kit’s smiling side profile a moment longer before she numbly opened her chat with Seth and typed: **Sure, I miss talking to you too. When will be a good time for you?**

_September 2_ 5 _th 2012, 1pm, Los Angeles (Mel’s diner)._

**Emilia**

“Did you call the paps?” Emilia hissed as he settled opposite her. She fought to keep her words incoherent to the ears of fellow diners sitting just at the adjacent tables but it was so difficult. Emilia has not felt this mad in a long time.

Seth looked up and blinked.

“Don’t you dare play dumb, you saw them-“

Seth chuckled, “I’m not playing dumb,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “you look cute when you’re angry,”

That only made Emilia madder. Her face heated up and Emilia knew how flushed her cheeks would look. The look in Seth’s eyes softened as he gazed at her and for a moment, Emilia felt guilty for being so uptight about this and spewing mean things to him first thing. Emilia then resolved to control herself to properly talk this out like adults, if solely because of the fact that they are in public and are both celebrities, screaming at him just won’t do. Besides, the paparazzi are probably just waiting to interview diners outside, who would’ve witnessed their tiff.

Then the waiter came with their menus. She quietened down and took a breath as the waiter placed the menu before them.

“Can I get any drinks for the both of you?” the waiter asked. Normally, Seth would answer on their behalf that water will do for now but he was silent. She risked a glance to him to see him gazing at her with the same soft look, his lips curved into a small smile.

“W-water will do thanks,” Emilia replied the waiter, forcing a smile. The waiter nodded and went away, “Seth,” Emilia began when he is out of earshot, “I’m not joking, did you or did you not call the paparazzi?”

Seth looked between her eyes and it was then he seem to realise that she was serious. His small smile faded and he leaned forward. Lowering his voice, he replied simply, “yeah,”

Betrayal sunk deep into her and Emilia ignored the sting of it. The waiter came with their water and Emilia leaned back into her seat, grateful for a moment to process this new information. Seth had asked her to dress nicely when they were getting dressed to go out for lunch. Emilia hadn’t questioned him and simply thought he’d bring her to a nice diner and did not want her to feel underdressed. She had been grateful for his sentiments, until now, when it was starting to look like he wanted to show her off to the world and wanted her to look good while he did it.

When he left, Emilia took a sip of her ice water, swallowing the sting of betrayal along with it just enough for her to speak and not scream, “why?”

Seth raised a brow, “babe…” Emilia refrained from rolling her eyes. She used to think it cute initially but Seth called her that _all the time_. After a while, when Seth moaned out for her like that even in their most intimate moments, Emilia found herself wondering if Seth even knew her name, “why are you upset?” Seth frowned at her, perplexed. He looked confused enough to scratch the back of his head.

“Is this just PR?” Emilia quietly replied. She has heard of that from Kay before; some celebrities have relationships just for show.

Seth’s frown deepened, “this? What do you mean?”

“Our relationship,” she whispered and her reddened hands suddenly felt too cold. The lines between Seth’s brows did not smoothen and Emilia felt herself blushing furiously as she explained her own insecurities to him, “are you with me only for the publicity?”

Seth blinked, stunned, “no!” he said, a little too loudly and the diners around them turned. Emilia ducked her head, half in embarrassment, half because she didn’t want to be recognised and approached, not now when she couldn’t possibly conjure a convincing smile for a picture, “I deeply care about you and this relationship,” Seth said, looking a little offended, “and no, I’m definitely not into this only for the publicity… why would I need any of that?”

 _From you especially._ Emilia told herself, feeling herself sinking lower into her seat. Emilia has never felt duller then. Seth couldn’t possibly get any publicity from her, an actress who was just starting out and who has nothing on her resume but one daytime tv show and an up-and-rising HBO show. She was practically a nobody while Seth has been in his industry for years! Then the shame settled in, that she has accused him of not being serious about this relationship when he is.

When she looked up to realised he was waiting for a response, looking slightly peeved, Emilia managed weakly, “so why did you call the paps?”

Seth rolled his eyes and Emilia felt like a child who was having things explained to her by her father. Although, her own father has never made her feel that way, “you have been amazing, Emilia. More than amazing, I mean-“ Seth paused and awe settled in his gaze. Emilia knew then he was referring to their ‘wild’ nights; how he described it breathlessly as he collapsed into the pillows. He swallowed and his adam apple bobbed before he continued, “I wanted to make it… official. I didn’t want you to feel like you are a dirty little secret I am hiding,” he smiled tentatively but Emilia did not return it. Seth sighed, “I thought you’d be happy,”

Emilia paused and sat with what he just said to her. He was right to think so. That sentiment should make her happy, even if the method he showed it with did nothing but upset her. However, that being said, the sentiment was now revealed to her. It should make her happy. But she felt nothing. Emilia took in a shaky breath as she puzzled over her own feelings.

“Are you happy?” Seth asked hesitantly.

“Seth…” she sighed, “I am,” Emilia lied and she closed her eyes against it, “but you could’ve just spoken to me-“

“Like I said, I thought it’ll make you happy-“ Seth cut in.

“But it doesn’t!” Emilia snapped.

Seth blinked, caught by her tone. She has never snapped at him before now and Emilia covered her face with her hand, wondering why it was going so wrong. She just wanted to hide- It was then she felt Seth’s hand on hers, prying her hand from her face. She didn’t want to but he was insistent. When her hand lowered and she looked up to meet his gaze, “I don’t know why you’re upset about this… usually, in this industry...” Emilia wanted to sink lower in her seat instead of appearing like a complete newbie. Seth seemed to have picked up on her body language and rephrased it, “I thought you’d be happy to do some publicity for yourself … some benefits for your job on the side wouldn’t hurt while we’re having fun,”

_You complete idiot Emilia. He was trying to do PR for you and you thought he was doing it for himself when he doesn’t even need it! Now you’ve gone and made yourself look like a complete rookie **and** an unappreciative arsehole. On top of that… you’ve gone and bit his head off for it. Gods… how thick can you be? Which celebrity couple does not have paparazzi photos? Is this why? _

“Yes,” Seth chuckled. It was then Emilia realised she’d blurted the question and her cheeks burned, “like I said… some benefits for your work on the side wouldn’t hurt. But I guess you’re still pretty new to this whole fucked up thing, so you’re different,” Seth grew solemn as he said so. He reached over and brushed her cheek with the back of his finger, “and lovely,” Emilia froze, more unable to move than not wanting to. Truthfully, she wanted to bolt out of the diner in embarrassment.

Then a thought came to Emilia. Seth had just informed her that celebrities have been mixing work and personal life all this while. Emilia wondered if that was what made relationships work in this industry; a question she was pondering the whole time she dating Seth. She then wondered if her relationship with Kit would’ve survived if she’d just mixed it and used it for publicity on the side. Would it assuage the anxiety that she would have if she were to put down work while she spent time with Kit? How could she feel worried about not working when being with Kit would be a form of publicity for the betterment of her prominence in this industry?

Despite all the wondering, Emilia felt some disgust at the thought of it; that her relationship with Kit, something so sacred and precious, would be used in such a way.

“Emilia?”

Emilia focussed onto him to see Seth smiling, “what?”

“Are you alright?” Seth asked.

Emilia stared at him before she decide to unbite her tongue with him for once and blurted, “I don’t like it,” Seth raised a brow, “I don’t like you calling the paparazzi like that. I don’t care if it’ll help my work, I’m in this relationship for you… not for the benefits on the side that you can provide my work,” she said it all in one breath.

Seth paused, taken aback. Emilia reached for a glass, nervous if she’s made him angry by literally throwing his kind sentiment back in his face. He caught her hand before it got to her glass and she looked at him. He laughed as he caressed her hand tenderly, “you are _really_ new to all this…” Emilia was short of yanking her hand from his grasps in embarrassment when Seth added, “I love it. I love _you_ babe,” he brought her hand to his lips as he hunched down to kiss the back of her hand; a kiss like he has always kissed, full of anticipation and expectation for more from her.   

 

 _September 2_ 5 _th 2012, 8pm, London._

**Kit**

Kit cracked a witty joke and Rose laughed loudly. It was one of the first time he ever saw Rose laugh like this; so uncaringly for her image and so unashamedly, simply, happy. Kit didn’t know if it was seeing Rose like this or the alcohol but he felt a sweet warmth fill him regardless. He always did love his alcohol and he has always loved the sound of a loud, raucous and carefree giggle. He smiled and drained his glass.

He was proud of himself. Usually, Rose, beautiful and upper-class bred, made him ridiculously self-conscious. It hindered his wit and made him say stupid things which would make her laugh but make his face burn in embarrassment. It frustrated Kit because he knew how witty he could be and how similar Rose’s sense of humour was to his. It should be easy to be around her however somehow, the jitters came whenever she was around. But tonight, Kit had alcohol on his side to get rid of the jitters and be his usual witty self with that dry sense of humour.

As he reached for the bottle in his hazy, drunken blur to pour himself another glass, his hand closed over Rose’s hand. For a moment, Kit was thrown into the past. It was a while ago since he held a hand so much smaller than his. It reminded him of a time in which he was so much happier than he was now for in that time, he thought and still thought he had everything he ever wanted. Kit gazed down at their hands, trying and failing to stem the yearning that accompanied such a sight. He was then rudely jolted out of his daze when he glimpsed dark freckles dotting the hand beneath his, the skin of which was starkly pale compared to his.

Kit fully blamed the alcohol as he pulled his hand back like he has been scalded but realised he couldn’t. Said freckled hand, almost foreign, has turned and was holding him gently, albeit firmly. Usually, the skin of the hand in his would be paler (on a good day, redder so it’ll feel warm) than his but always complementing, not alarmingly paler. Kit tugged his hand away firmly but to no avail.

He looked up then and met bright blue eyes. He found himself delving into them despite the initial instinct to withdraw when they weren’t what he wanted to see, searching desperately for that hint of gold. _It must be there somewhere…_

When he tried and failed to spot even a tinge of gold, his eyes fell, disappointed. _Where have you gone now?_

“Kitten,” He tensed. The word was almost familiar but the voice was wrong; deeper than that which his ears wanted to hear.

“Don’t call me that,” he sighed, struggling to keep his tone gentle as he yanked his hand back from hers and rubbed his face with it. He was now a man trying to run from his ‘ghost’ and it made him anxious, “where did you hear it?” he asked, feigning a tone of curiosity when in fact it angered him slightly to hear her call him that.

“Why?” she, evidently falling for the ruse and not picking up on his slight anger, replied teasingly, “it’s a cute nickname, is it not?”

_It is. It always is. I used to hate it but grew to love it whenever it rolled off your tongue, when I could hear your voice with it._

Kit shrugged nonchalantly, not in the mood for Rose’s teasing suddenly. Instead, he quickly picked up the bottle they were both going for and poured some for Rose before himself. He glanced to Rose then when she muttered a contained ‘thanks’. She was gazing at him softly, unblinkingly. It wasn’t too long ago when he looked at someone else like that, and probably still does whenever he saw her.

“Emilia,”

Kit blinked. It was as if Rose had plucked the name from his thoughts; his heart.

“I heard of the nickname from her,” Rose replied.

“Why would she tell you that?” Kit bristled inwardly but outwardly feigned amusement.

Rose shrugged, “she didn’t. She just referred to you like that and I-“

“I hate it,” he spat, unable to contain the annoyance anymore as he realised he truly did hate it now.

Rose blinked, evidently taken aback and Kit instantly felt apologetic, “sorry, I won’t-“

“It’s fine,” Kit quickly said, “sorry, I’m just a little tired,” he brushed the topic off quickly, eager to talk about something else.

Rose shook her head dismissively. She smiled faintly as she reached a sympathetic hand forward and brushed his hair gently from his face. Kit forced himself to stay still. He knew Rose cared about him. He wasn’t blind. He could tell in the way she looked at him, spoke to him and cared for him when he needed it, and even when he thought he didn’t. He reached for her hand and took it in his gently, brushing her hand as he tried to show her how much he truly appreciated her. Kit’s eyes rose to look at her, in time to see her blue eyes light up as he held her hand. She smiled. He then felt ashamed. Her reaction was telling of how much this meant to her, probably as a result of how seldom he showed his appreciation.

His eyes wandered to her fiery red mane. It was beautiful, complementing her pale freckled skin nicely. It was eye-catching and in that way, Rose was probably born for this industry; born for the spotlight. And her personality complemented her attention catching hair colour perfectly. She’d bask in the attention given to her by strangers because of how she looked or strangers who recognised her from her previous shows she did. She liked it.

It was a stark difference from Kit who was born with ordinary dark brown hair and whom never wanted attention from strangers because of how he looked and dressed and instead, craved attention from the people he loved. As much as he wanted people to love his work, he never found himself craving that sort of public recognition and attention wherever he went. The most he could do when he was recognised was to try not to be a dick, like Emilia always chided him for. Because of that, Kit realised he was working harder to blend in nowadays; wearing dark colours on purpose and sticking his chin to his chest whenever he passed a crowd.

Their difference was evident when Rose giggled happily about an article by a paparazzi website, twisting their friendship into a relationship, when Kit was still in disbelief about how their little friendly meet-up was twisted into a hot date. _How have a peck on the cheek become termed as ‘sucking face’?!_ He was later peeved about it in all honesty and was on the verge of suing but Rose advised him against it, warning him that having a bad relationship with the press so early on in his career could be deadly to his career.

In an alcohol induced daze, Kit’s eyes dropped from Rose’s hair and onto her body. Rose had a slim build and could be described as skinny; very similar to Ygritte. She was wearing a fitted shirt that was currently dipped low to reveal a larger than usual expanse of her freckled chest. In truth, Rose was beautiful; an English rose, true to her name. _Like another English rose I know-_

Kit paused, feeling disgusted at himself for having such thoughts of Rose. _Don’t be a dick, Kitten._ Kit forced a smile and quickly traded her hand for his glass. At the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Rose blink and clear her throat as she sipped at her own drink, trying and failing to hide her pleased smile.

“Did you hear?” Rose perked up then, excited and Kit took a breath, relieved of having another topic to talk about and hopefully ease his mind from the headache that was developing, “of Emilia,” Kit groaned inwardly but swallowed it with more alcohol. It wasn’t a secret how much closer Rose has gotten to Emilia after Comic-con; Rose couldn’t stop gushing about her. _Everyone loves Emilia and what’s not to love?_

Kit wouldn’t have minded; if only the mere sound of her name would stop throwing his heart into mad palpitations and stop urging him to his feet in sheer eagerness to learn what he can about her. He saw so little of her as it is nowadays.

“What about her?” Kit feigned nonchalance, struggling to hide his curiosity. He was actually beginning to dislike who he has become when Emilia was mentioned; a desperate stalker at best, a delusional paparazzi with an overly fertile imagination at worse.

Rose picked up her phone from the counter and typed furiously on it. Eventually, she grinned in triumph and handed the phone to Kit. Inwardly, he steeled himself to see her lovely face once more, willing himself not to stare too long or worse, start grinning like a happy idiot at the sight of her.

When he was ready, or he thought he was, Kit glanced to it.

His heart seemed to beat its last as he froze, his limbs turning to ice. He stared.

He took in the way her arms held the waist of another man firmly and Kit couldn’t help but glare at the way the stranger’s hand rested on her waist. Then he glanced over the way her petite body was pressed to his; from her neck to her hips. The man was large, much too tall for her but she doesn’t seem to notice as she smiled at him from behind her sunglasses. Kit clutched the glass firmer before pouring more of his drink into his mouth, an attempt to stop himself from speaking. Kit did not trust what would emerge from his mouth in this moment; nothing short of profanities probably.

 _How could she?_ Betrayal cut deep into him. He quickly poured himself another glass and drained it even quicker.

Kit then tore his gaze from the phone to meet Rose’s eyes. She was grinning, a huge contrast from how he was feeling now, “aren’t they cute?”

Kit forced a smile and was pretty sure it came out as a grimace but Rose was oblivious for she was already scrolling down on the article.

“Who is he?” Kit managed to ask, profanity-free and he was proud of himself.

Rose let out a chuckle of disbelief, “Seth Macfarlane of course-“ _yes, Seth Macfarlane, a hugely successful celebrity._

“I know, I mean to her,” Kit tried his best to hide his impatience behind another glass of alcohol.

“Oh!” Rose stopped scrolling to look up, “we met him at one of the comic-con parties. He was hilarious and Emilia could not stop giggling with him,” _She always did love a giggle-_ Kit’s eyes fell to the phone then and he saw the photo Rose stopped at, “he seemed interested in her then but Emilia was too drunk to notice. I guess she noticed him now,” Rose sang in glee but Kit could barely hear her for he was too busy staring and trying to process the photo.

He wanted to throw up.

“They look so fucking cute together,” Rose laughed, “almost makes me miss that cute funny guy my sister set me up with-“

His mouth filled with sick and Kit bolted from his seat and made a beeline for the loo, throwing doors open on the way. The moment he reached the loo, he dropped to his knee and threw up. He clutched the toilet bowl for purchase as he heaved his guts out. Kit was mildly aware of a gentle hand on his back as he threw up their dinner and the drinks. There was a short pause as he stared into his own mess and sat with the taste of bitter bile on his tongue. Some spit was still dripping from his chin.

For a surreal moment, Kit could feel the hollowness of his gut after heaving it empty. In fact, his entire body felt empty. Behind him, he heard a soft chuckle, “easy on the alcohol, Kit-“  Kit heaved again, his entire body shaking as a fresh wave of vomit made its way out of his body.

By the time his body was seemingly done, Kit’s head felt incredibly heavy; dehydrated, oxygen deprived from heaving and saturated with alcohol. _Milly, come back-_

“Kitten,”

He perked up, pulling his face up and saving it from being planted into his own mess.

“Kitten, come on, up you get,” he strained his body to turn so he could see her. In a blurry haze, there she was, hunching over him as she brought a cup of water to his lips. He cradled the cup for an excuse to cover her hand and drank deeply. Then she tried to help him to his feet. Kit didn’t need to see her properly to know her brows were probably knitted in worry, “what’s wrong-“

When he found his strength, Kit shot to his feet and threw his arms around her.

She shrieked and Kit almost laughed at the sound but mostly because he held her in his arms. Eventually, he felt her arms wrap around his torso, rubbing his back comfortingly. His eyes slipped shut in bliss.

“You alright? What happened?” he heard her whisper to him.

“Don’t,” he slurred, his tongue barely forming the words, “don’t go to ‘im,”

“W-what-“

“Stay with me, don’t go to him,” he  enunciated with great effort as he strained his neck to press a kiss to her warm flushed cheek, “he’d never want you like I want you, he could never love you like I love you, Mi-“

“D-do you mean it?” she asked shakily.

He pulled from her and pressed his lips to hers clumsily in his stupor but firmly. _I made the mistake to let you go once._ He yanked her shirt off her and then her skirt. _Never again._ He gripped her under her bare thighs and lifted her into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Hastily, he carried her to his bed and they fell onto it heavily. Without missing a beat, he ducked his head and peppered hurried kisses over her bare skin; loving her as if it would convince her not to leave and to stay with him, “don’t go, don’t go to him,” he rasped between desperate kisses.

“I won’t,” she moaned out as he kissed her hard enough to leave his mark on her skin; marking her as his.

“Truth,” he growled out his guess. _Promise me. Swear to me._

The reply did not come but Kit thought he heard it in the way her hands grasped him and held him to her, in the way her legs tightened around his hips, keeping him on her and urging him into her.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. A happy sigh left her and he melded their lips together.

_Milly. My darling Milly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL WHO STILL LURKS HERE! This chapter is probably a poor way to wish you all a happy christmas but an update's an update. So consider it my christmas gift to you guys!
> 
> Secondly, I genuinely owe you guys an apology for the late update and no surprises why: I really struggled with this chapter as I know you guys will struggle to read it. But nonetheless, a few new (although unwanted) relationships are further explored here and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! 
> 
> Lastly, if you are still reading, please do let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments below. I am lurking into miserable territory after this chapter and your comment will be great feedback to how I am doing and a sign of your presence will be good encouragement to write.


	11. Cave Hill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “We will come here and watch the sunset together, every year, until we’re so old we can’t walk up these slopes- wait no even after; even after when we can no longer walk up these slopes, I’ll think of something. Maybe a helicopter drop,”  
> \- Kit Harington (The First Verse, 2010)
> 
> “I will say, she is an incredibly kind, supremely talented person and one of the hardest-working people I have ever met. It’s a pain in the ass because if you date, at a certain point you’re in a relationship and at a certain point you’re playing the field. It becomes this thing of trying to find places where you can have some privacy, where you’re not going to be accosted by people and suddenly linked to someone as if you’re in a serious relationship. It can particularly f— with people, if you’re dating somebody who is not in the industry, who isn’t accustomed to being chased by paparazzi. If it’s somebody of quality, they don’t like it. I’ve had that happen where they’re like, ‘I don’t really like this.’ And to me there’s no better mark of somebody you actually want to be with than somebody who has that reaction.”  
> \- Seth MacFarlane (IndieWire, 2013)
> 
> I won't name names and I won't name films, but I've sat through private screenings, nearly in tears. Hating it. Thinking: this is the end, everything's over."  
> \- Kit Harington (GQ, 2015)

_October 22 nd 2012, Belfast _

**Kit**

_Stupid. So, so stupid._

Kit thought as he trudged up the dirt path. He looked up to see that the weather matched his mood. Clouds loomed heavy in the sky, threatening to spill over and drench him thoroughly. The air was unnaturally still. Kit rubbed his eyes, wondering if it was his eyes that were blurry or he was actually seeing some fog begin to set in.

Without warning, he slipped on a piece of wet mud. He caught himself quickly, his heart leaping into his mouth. Kit glared at the mud as if it could feel his hate. Knowing it probably can’t, Kit huffed and rolled his eyes. He had woken in the morning and spent an extra half an hour staring at the ceiling, thinking of the same person he thought of every morning. However, probably because today was a special day and he needed her for the more-than-usually-difficult month he has had; he had thought of her longer than he usually did.

When he eventually rolled out of bed, he got ready with one sole purpose in mind; he was going to Cave Hill. He had a day off from filming anyway, one he bullied to get from David and Dan.

_Fuck this._

Kit glanced back to see that the trail he just took up the hill was deserted. He considered doubling back. _She’s moved on, with another man. Why will she even be here? To fulfil a lost promise made 2 years ago? One I made but completed forgot about last year, when we were still together. Jesus Kit, no wonder she left you._ Guilt creeped into him as he recalled and Kit decided to stab himself deep in the gut with it. _Great. Now you’ve gone for a hike for absolutely nothing because you obviously won’t even be getting to see a sunset in this fucked up weather._

Despite himself, Kit couldn’t explain why but he put one foot in front of the other and continued on the path he set for himself this morning. Could be his reluctance to admit defeat, or simply the stubborn hope he has always harboured for the two of them simply because Kit did not know how he would live otherwise.

He stared at the path as he walked and thought he could feel the sweet warmth of her on his back and her arms around his neck. She’d held him with such firmness and tenderness like she always had, Kit wondered how she did it. If he’d tilted his head to the side then, his cheek would be pressed up against hers.

 _“You’re freezing,”_ Kit could still hear her accusing him as she quickly nuzzled closer with an excuse to keep him warm.

“Milly,” he whispered, his head snapping around to the side, his eyes searching desperately for her but he was alone.

Clenching his teeth, Kit huddled down deeper into his jumper against the cold and took the dirt path he had dreamt of numerous time. He paused then, at the exact spot he’d reluctantly let her down from his back two years ago. Gazing around him tiredly, Kit felt his breath hitch in his throat as he turned to the very same grassy slope.

Kit found he could barely breathe as he stared at her. He was hardly able to believe what he was seeing. Tears welled up in his eyes and Kit dared not blink. He exhaled slowly, afraid she’ll disappear with his misty breath.

Her eyes fell from staring into the distance, at the town of Belfast. As if she could sense his eyes on her, and Kit wouldn’t be surprise if she could, she turned towards him. Kit was rooted to the ground as her eyes settled on him and she stared. She looked impassive but Kit glimpsed her jaw tighten.

 _You came._ Kit thought, surprised. _Why?_ His eyes fell to her lips as she whispered something, a wisp of misty breath leaving her lips and disappearing into the cold frigid air. The look on her face was one which Kit thought he himself wore at this very moment; a look of sheer disbelief. She blinked twice and a tentative smile lit up her face.

Kit mirrored it, hoping it would conceal his racing heart. When it was too awkward for him to stand on the path and not to approach, Kit blinked to break eye contact, cleared his throat and took his first step off the path and onto the grassy slope she stood on. As he neared her, Kit’s brain was running a mile a minute, trying to conjure something appropriate to say to someone he hasn’t met but thought of every single day for almost 4 months.

When he came to stand before her, Kit took a breath, trying to still his pounding heart and looked up as his mouth moved to speak.

“ **Hello,** ” they said in unison.

He paused as did she. Laughter burst out from both of them and the tension and awkwardness broke and disappeared without a trace. He laughed heartily, his laughter encouraged by her raucous giggles that shook her petite frame.

_And there we both are; two idiots trying to catch the sunset on a cloudy, foggy day in lovely Belfast._

Her giggles eventually died down and she wiped away at the tears that have gathered at the corner of her eyes from laughing so hard, “what are you doing here?” Emilia asked, wearing her look of disbelief, this time without the tension but with genuine curiosity.

 _I promised you, didn’t I?_ “I-um-I was just…” Kit wracked his brain for an excuse but came up empty, especially with her staring up at him so openly like this, “just thought to visit here, I mean Iceland is amazing but I miss Belfast, and the sights,” Kit settled for the truth but not entirely. Kit prayed she wouldn’t go ahead and point out that he was still mostly filming in Belfast and filming in Iceland has not yet begun. Emilia nodded thoughtfully, as if in agreement, “you?” he wanted to hear her sorry excuse; wanted to see her scramble for a lie if she dared to try in front of him.

“Same,” she shrugged. She had too settled for the truth but not all of it. Emilia seemed to be chewing on her tongue while she contemplated before she said with a smirk, “with _Morocco_ ,” she was teasing him and Kit mocked a scowl, truthfully bleeding with jealousy that she got to travel to exotic places for filming while he was stuck with cold, wet Iceland and Belfast.

“Shut up,” Kit snapped and Emilia giggled gleefully. Kit huffed a chuckle briefly, turning to glance at the horizon. The sky was still bleak, the clouds heavy above them. The sky was slowly but surely turning dark but there will be no sunset for them today. Kit realised with that thought that he didn’t care about the sunset. He never did. Sure, he knew it’ll be beautiful but he always had something more, even now. He couldn’t help but gaze at her a moment longer as her mirth quelled before he suggested, already knowing she wouldn’t be able to say no, “let’s go for a drink, Clarke,”

* * *

Emilia let out a shriek as she tripped over a loose cobblestone and Kit hastily grabbed her under her upper arm, yanking her up. With her petite frame, he successfully managed to keep her on her feet and keep her dignity intact. She managed a sheepish smile as she straightened. Kit rolled his eyes magnificently at her, “so much for being inconspicuous,”

They were trying to slip into the Spaniard, highly aware of their increased popularity than two years ago, when they could get hammered and leave noisily without having even one photo taken of them. Now, descending Cave Hill, Kit was stopped twice to have his photo taken with fans of the first two season. One even said she came to Belfast specially to try to spot any Game of Thrones actors because she heard they filmed here.

They made it into Spaniard with Emilia hiding a snigger as Kit ducked his head hurriedly when one bloke looked to be about to do a double take upon seeing him. He slapped her arm, scowling. A snort of laughter escaped her as Kit settled into the corner of the pub at the bar and ducked his head down, “Kitten, you’re ridiculous,” she chortled, crossing her arms on the bar as she hopped up beside him, “you’re no Leonardo Di Caprio,” Emilia’s voice was dripping with derision that Kit knew she didn’t mean. She was teasing him, in a mean way; _just like old times._  

Kit snorted, “No I’m not, I’m someone better; Kit fookin’ Harington,” he puffed his chest out, exuding a confidence he did not feel. Emilia’s grin, which came up when his retort began, faltered just slightly. And Kit realised too late that he’d taken on his impression of Ygritte. He has spent loads of time with Rose lately and was influenced by Rose’s continued use of the accent to tease him multiple times whenever they met up.  

A beat. Emilia laughed heartily before she retorted, “who the fuck is that?” Kit rolled his eyes. He was however, unable to keep a straight face. Then Kit felt the sudden, annoying urge to go to the loo. He got to his feet and Emilia frowned, confused, “where are you going now?”  

“In search of better company,” Kit teased. Emilia rolled her eyes and Kit muttered as he walked past her, “loo,”

Emilia chuckled, shaking her head, “what do you want to drink? I’ll order first,”

Kit paused, thinking but he didn’t know, he wasn’t feeling his usual pint of IPA. Then he realised he was staring at the person who probably knew him better than himself, next to his family. Kit grinned and shrugged, “order for me. If I like it, drinks’ on me. If I don’t, it’ll be on you,”

Emilia raised a brow at the absurdity of it all but like Kit, she was sporting a mischievous grin, “I’ll pay if I can see you drink piss,”

He scowled but rushed off the loo, needing it more urgently than he had thought after that reminder. Emilia’s giggle faded behind him as he slipped into the loo. All through his time in the loo, Kit found a part of him deliberating if she was serious, knowing how crazy she could be when she wanted to be. Kit could only take comfort in the fact that Emilia hasn’t had any alcohol in her systems that could fuel this crazy idea and push her to actually order him a shit drink deliberately.

When Kit emerged from the loo and caught sight of Emilia, he felt an uncomfortable lump form in his throat. Emilia was standing behind the bar, smiling charmingly to the surprisingly young bartender. Kit watched her laugh at something he said, touching him on his arm and Kit felt his shoulder tense. If Kit did not know Emilia better, he’d say she was quite blatantly flirting with him, or at least trying to charm the poor bloke who was looking entranced.

 _I don’t have the rights to be jealous. You aren’t even mine._ Kit realised he was unbearably bitter, even about that fact.

Emilia then turned to the bar and began mixing, looking pretty professional. He felt both his brows raise. He did not know she could bartend. Then he realised, she is probably making him a drink. Feeling chuffed and confident he wouldn’t be grumpy and unbearable, Kit approached, clearing his throat.

Emilia glanced up from what she was doing but she merely smirked at him before looking back down, focussed on getting the proportions right. Kit sat down as he glanced to the bartender to see the lad watching Emilia mix the different liquids evidently impressed. She began shaking the mixture. Kit watched her strain the orange coloured drink into a glass filled with ice. Then she turned to the bartender and whispered something to him. Kit’s throat tightened at the proximity that, to him, was entirely unnecessary.

The bartender smiled and nodded. Emilia picked up a cherry and dropped it into the drink just as the bartender handed her half a slice of orange. She placed it carefully on the edge of the glass. _What the fuck is that?_ Kit stared suspiciously at it. Straightening, Emilia placed the glass before him, “a glass of piss, enjoy,”

Despite his genuine apprehension, Kit chuckled, “seriously, Clarke?”

Emilia turned to the bartender with a smile and slipped him a tip as she exited the bar and rounded it to return to her seat. The bartender then resumed work, presumably to make her drink, seeing as Emilia has yet to have a drink.

“Really though, what is this?” Kit narrowed his eyes as he observed the drink suspiciously before him.

“What does it look like?” Emilia challenged.

Kit shrugged, “piss,” he ventured a guess, straight-faced.

Emilia laughed, “fuck off,” she punched him in the shoulder, “An Am Sour, my specialty,” she grinned proudly, “with piss on top,”

Kit turned to her, “specialty? So you’ve bartended?” she nodded and Kit did not ask any further, assuming it must be one of the many odd jobs she took prior to Thrones to keep up with her rent. The many odd jobs she did was a huge part of Emilia and what he loved about her; no matter how beautiful she was, how good she was at acting, how popular she’d be, she was already long humbled by her experience prior to Thrones and will remain so for years to come. Or Kit will just have to humble her, with his constant sarcasm and deprecating comments.

“Try it!” Emilia said eagerly, shifting closer to him in her seat. Kit glanced to the way her leg brushed his and instantly, her leg shifted so they weren’t touching. He sipped at his drink, trying to ignore the spark that raced up his leg with that simple touch, “how is it?”

Kit gazed at her as he tasted the tartness of the drink that was quickly balanced with a sweetness that he has come to associate with the woman before him. It was cool and refreshing in his mouth and Kit glanced down at it, schooling his face to hide his surprise at how good it tasted, how much he genuinely liked it.

“Well?” Emilia asked impatiently, nudging him with her elbow.

He glanced to her, shaking his head side to side in a noncommittal reply, “it’s okay,”

“So am I paying, or are you?” Emilia smirked, pressing the issue obstinately. _This competitive lass._

Kit pondered only a moment before he replied, “since you went ahead and _made_ the drink, it’s only right I tip you,” she raised a brow and Kit found himself fighting the urge to kiss her on the cheek affectionately.

“So…you’re paying,” Emilia grinned in triumph. Kit rolled her eyes, already regretting his decision to relent in this.

 

**Emilia**

She was strangely nervous as she watched Kit sip the drink she specially made for him. She saw the way his eyes lit up as he tasted it and the way his fingers held the drink as if fighting the urge to take another sip. However, seeing these things couldn’t beat hearing him admit he liked it, no matter how indirectly and thick with disdain he has made it known.

The bartender then muttered an excuse me, interrupting their exchange of her grin and his feigned annoyed expression. She loved the way Kit’s lips pinched together and dimpled at the edge in his annoyance. The bartender, Jimmy, placed the drink before her and Emilia turned her grin to him.

She had chatted him up after Kit left to the loo, determined to charm him into letting her make a drink for Kit. It had worked and Emilia was just short of patting her back in praise for herself; she would honestly describe herself as anything but sexy and charming. Thus, charming this bartender had her pulling out all the stops she acquired from drama school.

Emilia picked up her drink and sipped at it, mildly aware of Kit sipping his drink as well, a conscious effort to fill the sudden silence that blanketed the stark, not-merely-physical space between them. As she lowered her drink, she licked her lips thoroughly, savouring the sweet taste of the cocktail she ordered as she thought of what to say. Sucking in a deep breath, Emilia turned to him. She was about to launch into a flurry of tease about something insignificant but the look on Kit’s face had her pausing.

He was gazing at her, or at her lips in particular. He was so absorbed that he failed to notice that she was, now, staring at him. Emilia resisted the urge to chew on or even move her lips, afraid to break him from his reverie and have him turn his gaze away. The look in Kit’s eyes made it hard for her to breathe; it reminded her of the way he used to stare so unashamedly at her, using his eyes to tell her what he wanted when his mouth couldn’t. _He used to claim what he wanted with his lips and his tongue, this confident boy-_ Emilia felt her face begin to heat up as her ‘filthy mind’, as Kitten always called it, brought up entirely inappropriate images of his lips claiming what he wanted with deft, practiced sureness. 

As if sensing her internal struggle, Kit’s eyes glazed over and he blinked, turning back to his drink which he still clutched. She studied his face for a moment and knew for a fact that something was wrong; something that had nothing to do with what date it was but rather something happening in his life at this point. Emilia couldn’t say how she knew, if asked; she just knew.

“Kitten,” she started hesitantly, unsure where they now stood and if she still held the privilege of sharing his worries. Probably picking up on an uncharacteristic solemnness in her tone, Kit looked up in curiosity and absurdly, some concern for her. _Sweet Kitten…_ “is everything ok?” she asked, her eyes boring into him with an intensity that told him this would be about him and he was _not_ to divert this to be about her, “apart from what day it is,” she hastily added, chuckling bitterly.

Kit glanced to her lips at that reminder before he joined her with a tentative chuckle, “the anniversary of the best day of my life,” he teased but there was a hesitation that was unlike him, “I think that deserves a fucking toast,” Kit lifted his glass, feigning a grin and doing a poor job at feigning one.

Emilia shot him a withering look, obstinately refusing to raise her glass, “Kitten…” she sighed.

“Don’t be a spoilsport Clarke,” Kit warned. She paused and saw the resolute stubbornness on his face to not broach the topic of whatever is really bothering him at this point. She did not push him. Emilia rolled her eyes magnificently before she eventually raised her glass. Kit smiled and clinked their glass together.

The night grew darker with light hearted but slightly combative teasing from both sides and they drained their first cocktail. When Kit admitted the drink she made him was ‘fucking decent’, Emilia knew the alcohol has gotten into his system. She laughed before addressing the bartender by his name to order two more drinks for them. When their drinks finally came, Emilia took a large swig of her beer to steel herself for the topic she was about to broach.

“So,” she began and Kit turned to her, his grin from their previous teasing still etched on his face, “how’s Rose?”

His smile drained from his face and Emilia could see the genuine effort Kit put into keeping some remnants of it on. She chalked it up to how awkward it must feel to talk to an ex about his current relationship, “she’s good,” he replied quietly, looking at her. Before Emilia could ask more, unsure if she actually wanted details, Kit interrupted, “how’s Seth?”

She stared at him. _How did he know?_

“I saw the pictures on the gossip site,” Kit turned away from her and faced his drink as he said it, “you looked happy in them,” he took a sip and Emilia watch him swallow it, wondering if such a small sip needed such a large effortful swallow.

“I am,” she replied in a small voice, watching him. She wished he would look at her.

“Good,” he said firmly, taking a larger sip; or rather a swig of his drink. Silence settled between them.

Sick of the awkwardness that in her opinion needn’t even be there, Emilia said, “oh don’t fucking change the topic,” she complained, “how are you and Rose going?” she elbowed him, teasing him through the lump in her throat. She has teased him before over text but never in person and Emilia was starting to the feel the strain in her forced grin.

Kit turned his head to her, gazing at her as if he was studying her and trying to see through her, “we’re good friends,” Emilia felt her heart leap with joy and she schooled her face to remain unchanging but felt the edge of her lips twitch up nonetheless. Kit’s gaze darted to her lips, obviously picking up on that. _Fuck._ Kit’s lips curved into a small smile, as if sharing her smile.

Then Emilia remembered the look in Rose’s eyes as she spoke of him and her smile faded. Emilia rolled her eyes at Kit, “please,” she snorted, “it’s illegal to lie to your best mate, did you know that, Harington-“

Kit’s gaze darted between her eyes as he replied quietly, “I’d never lie to you,”   

 _Please stop, Kitten. Stop making this harder than it already is._ “oh yeah? How was the rumpy pumpy?” she grinned. Reading it in the script had her taking a break from reading and going out for a walk.

Kit tensed visibly.

“Cave sex, kinky,” she nudged and winked at him.

His shoulders relaxed just so, “didn’t happen,” Emilia raised a brow and Kit gestured to his leg, “fractured ankle remember? I just removed the cast,”

Her stomach sank as she tried to wrap her head around the meaning of his reaction. _Oh don’t be an arse, Emilia. It’s not like you haven’t, with Seth…_ Guilt overwhelmed her as she thought of what she did, looking at Kit now and noticing the way he looks at her; how he looks at her, _still._

“I promised you, didn’t I?” Kit grinned mischievously and he looked so pleased with himself, Emilia couldn’t contain the giggle that bubbled from deep within her despite the turmoil she was experiencing. She has long learnt that Kit has this special ability to make her laugh in any situation and no matter how she was feeling. Her amusement quelled to see Kit waiting patiently for it to pass before he said solemnly, “Rose is a friend,” his eyes bore into hers, willing her to understand, “so stop fucking teasing,”

He looked genuinely annoyed but Emilia was a woman on a mission. She’d promised Rose that she’ll be on her side and letting her friends down was not something Emilia did, “Kitten, Rose is a good lass,”

Kit studied her again, “she is,”

“And you two get on well,” she pushed, “ _very_ well,”

“We do,” he admitted.

“She’s probably one of the only person in the world who can tolerate your fucking dry humour,” Emilia laughed. He stared at her deadpanned and she could hear his unsaid words; _so can you._ She ignored him. _She can make you happy._ Emilia wanted to say but said instead, “you’re not young, Kitten,”

He rolled his eyes, “you sound like my bloody mum. Actually scratch that, my parents married late, so, thank God, even my mum doesn’t sound like that,”

“Language,” she chided sternly and Kit laughed. Seeing him laugh, Emilia decided to let this topic go and push it another time. Instead, she asked, “how’s your parents? And Jack,”

Kit nodded, smiling, “they are good. Mum asked about you,”

“What did she say?” Emilia asked, curious.

“She wants to invite you over for Christmas but it was fucking September,” Kit snorted.

“Sure hope you didn’t reply your poor mum like that,” Emilia rolled her eyes.

“So what will it be Clarke?” Kit asked and Emilia turned to him to see him looking at her expectantly, “Christmas dinner? Care to drop by the Haringtons?” 

“Ask me again then. The Haringtons could be busy hosting the Leslies if you’d hurry up,” she countered, teasing.

Kit growled in frustration and shoved her gently. She cackled cruelly and drank her drink, trying to replace the burn in her chest with a burn in her throat.

 

**Kit**

His third cocktail turned him into a sad sod, mulling over his life while sitting with his perfect ex-girlfriend who dumped him because she loved him. Kit felt this scene was good enough for a movie; a sad fucking movie but a movie nonetheless.

He thought of the past few days and unbidden tears swam into his vision. Kit didn’t know why he started crying or even why here and now. But when Emilia shifted beside him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. It assured him that he wasn’t alone and Kit cried harder. Even if he hasn’t begun to let her know what the problem was, he felt she’d understand. That thought spurred his heavy clumsy tongue to form the words; the same words he’d thought of over and over since the day of the private screening but could never bring himself to say aloud, “I fucked up. My career is fucking over,”

Kit couldn’t look at her as shame settled in him. All his life he was pegged for success. In drama school, he was picked out of all the young lads who auditioned to head the highly anticipated play; War Horse. His teachers all thought he was undeniably talented and will achieve success in this industry eventually. All his drama school friends put him on a pedestal since he got that role and his parents heard from his teachers, having high hopes for his future. Kit enjoyed that; being held with such high regard but only now, did he realise a problem that came with that. He couldn’t share his failures with anyone. He wanted to hide when he failed; hide the failure and hide himself. But both were impossible in this industry.

At the thought of the movie coming out in less than 4 days, more tears came and he drew a sharp raspy breath.

“Kitten,” her touch on his arm was comforting and as he hunched his head to cry, hoping no one else in the pub would see. He placed a hand over hers to keep her hand there, “tell me, please,” her voice was so little, drowned out by his latest sob that he tried to silence. When he tried to speak over his sobs, he hiccupped and it became hard to breathe, “alright,” she shushed him, her other hand coming up to the back of his head, “later,” upon her gentle pull, Kit leaned closer to her and found her shoulder to rest his heavy head.

He let himself cry till he ran out of tears and by the time he did, Emilia’s arm was around him on his shoulder. Her other hand had long left his arm and as Kit was wondering where it was, she brought it to his face, wiping away his tears.

“Sorry I don’t have tissues,” she whispered, clearing the tear streaks with her soft warm fingers, “I do have a scarf,” she said, her voice teasing before dropping into a stern tone, “but you are not to clean your snot on it, it’s expensive,” she explained as if he had asked.

Despite himself, Kit chuckled weakly, “what kind of best mate are you?” he reached for her scarf to blow his nose, as she ‘suggested’. She shrieked and ducked away. Her shriek turned heads of fellow pub-goers but both of them didn’t care.

“The genuine kind,” Emilia grinned, slapping away his reaching hand. It stung and Kit clutched his hand to him as if she had amputated it, “fucking drama kid,” she muttered grudgingly. Kit laughed. Emilia smiled at the sight of him laughing, “so, what was the reason for my sodden shoulder, may I ask?” Emilia demanded, bordering on cruel considering he had just cried his eyes out but her tone was what stemmed the tears from returning.

“Cut me some slack, Clarke. Consider it a commemoration of my short-lived career,” Kit replied dryly.

“Oh cheer the fuck up, you just took photos with 4 avid fans as we walked in, I would hardly consider that a sign of the ‘passing of your career’,” she mimed a deep voice, presumably his voice.

Kit blinked. _She’s right._ He realised.

“But spill, Harington, what made you think so?” Emilia asked, looking all ears, “apart from your evidently less than average observation skills of the fans’ adoration of your pretty hair,”

 _Nothing like an insult to get me riled up and off ranting._ Kit mused. Suddenly aware of how he looked now, as a bloke with red puffy eyes and blotchy face but Kit realised he simply didn’t give a fuck, as long as a fan doesn’t recognise him and ask for a photo now, “the _movie,_ ” he muttered softly.

“Silent Hill,” Emilia filled in the blanks without missing a beat.

Kit nodded mutely.

“Let me guess,” Emilia peered at his face, “it’s truly a _horror_ film,”

 _As in horrible…_ Kit blinked, surprised that she was cracking a joke now when he was steeling himself to be comforted. He burst out laughing.

“Or a horror-turned-comedy?” Emilia narrowed her eyes, “I can’t tell with you laughing,”

“Shut the fuck up, Clarke,” Kit wiped at the corner of his eyes, “the film is…embarrassing,” Kit admitted.

Emilia raised a brow, “that bad?”

“Yes,” Kit said firmly, “I’m not even going to bring my dog to that film,”

“You don’t have a dog,” Emilia countered flatly.

 _Fucking hell._ “Imagine that I do!” Kit said exasperatedly.

Emilia squinted off into the distance, telling him deadpanned, “I’m trying… that poor dog,”

Despite his frustration, Kit laughed, “keep it up and I’m going to make you watch it!”

She looked horrified, “you know I don’t do horror!” Emilia protested, “as in both scary movies _and_ horrible movies,” she added, having the sense to be sheepish about her earlier joke.

Kit rolled his eyes and finished his second cocktail, feeling a few stones lighter merely from bickering with her about it.

“Kitten,” he put down his empty glass and turned to her, “it’s just _one_ movie,” she was serious now and Kit let her word sink in, “even if you fucked up two or three movies, with that gorgeous Jon Snow hair you got going, I doubt it’ll wake the fan girls from their daydream of having a chance to lick chocolate sauce from your abs,” she was being a clown again, _a clown with a ribald sense of humour._ But Kit could hear her point through the rubbish. Game of Thrones received phenomenal reception and reviews from critics and his role in it is well-loved, last he heard. Now that Emilia mentioned it, Kit could see how it would be difficult for one or two bad movies to bring down his career built on Thrones with HBO backing it, “besides,” she shrugged, “name me one celebrity who didn’t have at least one movie on his or her resume titled ‘regret’?”

Kit chuckled, “alright…” he nodded, conceding, “you win, Clarke,”

Emilia did a small cheer, grinning so wide her eyes disappeared, “we’ll get better at this, Kitten, in identifying good scripts and the types of movies we can pull off and the kind we’d struggle in. And no better way to learn than by exploring. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Kit smiled, a smile which was quickly erased when Emilia snapped suddenly, groaning, “and _fuck you_ ,”

“For what?” Kit blinked, stumbling over his mind’s reflex to reply her with ‘ _I wish you would_ ’ like he used to. He just know she would let out the cutest giggle he has ever heard.

“In advance, for making me watch a horror film which happened to be a terrible movie that I would have to pay actual money for,” Emilia scowled. Kit laughed, happy that at least one good thing came out of that horrible film: being able to take the piss out of his best mate, Emilia Clarke.  

It was a few days later when Kit realised what she’d said and how she said it: _we._ He realised then did not ask her how _her_ movie was and what she thought of it. Kit learned a year later that her film was shown in the BFI London Film Festival and did not pick up any accolades; heck it didn’t even make it to the big screen. It was released on DVD in the end.

* * *

Kit was just contemplating to order a fourth drink for the both of them as Emilia popped into the loo. As he waved at the bartender, intending to order one drink for them both to share, he glimpsed Emilia returning from the loo. He smiled at her, ready to tease her that she was more than ‘a minute’ as she promised when she returned to her seat.

His smile faded when the gaze of the man at the table she passed lingered a moment too long. His leer followed Emilia unblinkingly even as she passed by him, leaving no doubt what was passing through this man’s head as he raked his eyes up and down her frame. With the hungry intensity that accompanied his stare, it was no surprise when this man missed Kit’s glare.

Emilia, however, noticed Kit’s glare immediately. She hopped onto her seat, asking, “what’s wrong?” 

The man turned back to his drink at his table and Kit turned back to Emilia, “nothing,” Kit muttered, not wanting her to feel afraid but resolving to keep an eye on the man.

Kit ordered another glass and as they were sharing it over light hearted, profanity filled banter, the man from the table behind them rose from his seat.  

Kit frowned, observing as he approached the bar. Emilia chuckled at his latest insult but her chuckle was cut short abruptly. She startled, visibly jumping when the bloke folded into the seat beside her, his arm brushing up against the side of hers. Kit, already feeling hot and slightly bothered from the alcohol consumed, bristled at the sight but pinched his lips into a straight line and fisted his hand on the bar, resolving not to overreact, “now that’s no way to speak to such a beautiful lady,” the bloke was obviously tipsy and Kit did not need to see the empty pint he was clutching to tell.

Emilia forced a smile and sidled away from him in her seat, just so their arms weren’t pressed up against each other, “thanks but we’re mates. He’s just teasing,”

The man seemed to notice Kit for the first time despite having obviously eavesdropped before approaching. Kit sat a little taller as the man sized him up. Obviously coming to the conclusion that Kit didn’t amount to much from his build, the man ignored Kit and turned to Emilia, “you’re very beautiful,” the man grinned, revealing a neat row of white teeth that Kit very much wanted to knock out.

Emilia shifted uncomfortably and muttered, “beauty is obviously in the eyes of the beer holder,”

Kit sniggered loudly and the man glared at him before turning back to Emilia, “and with a smart feisty mouth. I like that,” the man’s arm raised behind Emilia, as if to sling it over her shoulder. Kit glared at his arm as it rested on her back. He then leaned over and whispered into her ear, “I wonder how a smart mouth like that will feel around my prick-“

Emilia was trying to shrug his arm off and everything seemed to slow down for Kit then as he saw red. He grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it viciously. The man let out a shout of pain and Kit shoved him away from them. The man stumbled back into another vacant table and the empty pint he was holding crashed into the ground, shattering. The few patrons left in the pub at such a late hour turned to the commotion.

He thought he heard Emilia cry his name then but he kicked away the high stool he was perched on, furious, and stalked towards the man, glowering. He shrugged off a hand on his arm and leaned down and fisted the man’s shirt, “gerroff me,” the man batted his hand away sluggishly.

“You _do not_ talk to her like that,” Kit growled. He pulled back a fist, ready to beat this man bloody.

“Kitten!” Emilia’s face appeared before his fist with surprising clarity. Her small hand covered his fist. Kit uncurled his fingers and lowered his hand instantly, afraid of any accidents, “don’t,” she shoved him back, surprisingly strong. Kit had no choice but to let the man go as he allowed Emilia to back him into the corner they were seated in. He glanced behind her and glared at the man, who was being helped by that baby-faced bartender. Kit glared at him too, _fucking pretty face-_ “sorry,” Emilia apologised frantically, “he’s pissed drunk-“

“I’m not-” Kit protested but Emilia shushed him, her hand going to his lips to silence him but finding his cheek instead in her own sluggishness. She cupped his cheek, trying to soothe his rage, and Kit paused, stunned by her tender touch. The bartender glanced between them.

“Sorry, we’re leaving now,” Emilia muttered, her thumb caressing his cheek before she quickly chaperoned him out of the bar. Kit stared at her, wondering why his heart was racing and his hand, which she held, was breaking out in cold sweat as it held hers back gently. The man he shoved was shouting something at them but Kit did not hear what he said, he only heard Emilia’s gentle shushing and soft words insisting that they are leaving.

They made it out into the cold streets of Belfast and Kit burst out laughing. Emilia startled beside him before she joined him, laughing. He had no idea why they were laughing but they were, loudly and carelessly enough to attract annoyed glances of the few people left in the streets. Kit began walking down the street to his hotel, Emilia in tow. Their hands were still interlinked and as they giggled, neither made to let go. Kit glanced to her to see her cheeks were flushed from laughing but he knew once she settled down that Emilia would feel cold. He was contemplating how to remove his jacket and put it over her shoulders without extracting his hand from hers when her phone rang.

Emilia was trying to stop laughing, breathless, as she dug into her pocket for her phone. When she couldn’t do it with only one hand, she tore his hand from his. Kit put up some resistance but not enough for her to notice in her giddy amusement.

Her laughter completely extinguished when she glanced down to see who had called. Kit followed her gaze: _Seth MacFarlane._

His stomach sank and he silently pleaded with her not to pick up this call. For the first time in a long time, Emilia seemed not to have heard his silent plea; or she simply didn’t care.

She muttered an excuse me and picked up, pressing the phone to her ear. There was a small smile as she perked up and glanced to her phone, peering at the time. _It’s her birthday already._ Kit realised. He knew but he had forgotten the time. He watched helplessly as she spoke to Seth in hushed happiness, probably receiving the first birthday greeting this year from her boyfriend across the globe. _And not her best mate who was right beside her the whole time. Fucking hell Kit, you really don’t deserve her._

“Oh there’s no need for that,” Emilia whispered, glancing to Kit. She was very much aware of his presence, “thank you anyway,” a pause, “I’m with… Kit. Yeah, bumped into him,”

 _Sure. If you count fulfilling a date made two years back ‘bumping’ into each other._  

“Yeah, don’t worry silly,” Emilia chided gently, a small smile on her face and Kit wanted to scream down the almost vacant street, “goodnight, rest well. Yes, see you soon. Love you too,”

Kit turned away, feeling a twitch in his face despite the herculean effort he put into keeping it expressionless. She hung up and Kit blinked to feel some moisture gathering in his eyes. He already missed her fingers on his cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“Kit?”

He turned and grinned, “Happy fucking birthday, Clarke!” Kit scooped her into his arms, lifting her off her feet momentarily as he leaned back. He laughed, giddy with exhilaration. He grunted then, “you fat old lass,”

She shrieked, laughing, “shut the fuck up, prick!” he let her down onto her feet again. He hadn’t realise how much he missed her weight on him, in his arms.

“Come on, give me a kiss. It’s our first-kiss anniversary,” he grinned, his arms still around her.

“No, piss off,” Emilia giggled, her cheeks red. _You’d let me kiss you if I were Macfarlane._ Anger rose as he watched her squirm away from him, unwilling for his affection. Without a second thought for anything beyond what he wanted; her. Kit pressed his lips to hers, “Kitten-“ she objected but was effectively silenced. He took her lips roughly between his and tasted the sweetness of her soft plump lips. He kissed her hungrily, not how he usually did but he was not the Kit he used to be; not without her. Kit thought he felt her lips move against his so that it was around his upper lip. _She’s kissing me back-_

The pure utter joy was dampen when he was shoved back, hard. He stumbled back.

“Kit, _no_!” her tone stopped him in his tracks. That and the fact that she called him Kit. _Not Kitten,_ “stop…” she muttered, breathless. She wasn’t looking at him but staring at the ground, “you’re drunk,”

“You kissed me-” Kit stated bluntly.

“We’re both drunk,” Emilia interrupted sharply. His heart pounded when her hand came up to her lip, as if to rake across her lips, removing any trace of him. But she didn’t. Instead, her fingers touched her lips, her face a picture of disbelief, “we’re drunk…” she muttered.

“Milly…”

She flinched, “Seth,” she said and it was Kit’s turn to flinch, “Seth called,” she resumed walking, resolving not to talk about it. Emilia chose that route, often. Kit glared at her but was helpless as his feet followed her, desperate to stay with her for as long as she’d allow, “I’d be meeting him in London tomorrow and we’d celebrate my birthday together,” Emilia informed, glancing to him but not meeting his eye; not even once.

Kit made a mild sound of acknowledgement, detaching himself from everything she was saying. Only acknowledging the presence of her, the only thing that he can live with currently.

“He loves me, a lot,” Emilia stopped in her tracks, “he _really_ loves me,” she chuckled weakly, mixed with a little disbelief, “I don’t know why but he does. He’s serious about this,” Kit snorted, tired to pretending to give a fuck. Emilia glared at him and said, “he brought up marriage,” 

He stared at her, waiting for her to drop the ball but she doesn’t say more. Instead, her next words caught him completely off guard.

She told him quietly, “and Rose… she loves you, a lot,”

What she doesn’t say, she told him with her eyes as they stopped outside a hotel. _Time to let go, Kitten._ Kit didn’t reply, he didn’t know what to say. Instead, as he hugged her goodbye, muttering a happy birthday and an apology, he thought: _What about me and you and the person we love?_

Emilia did not seem to hear him as she withdrew from his embrace, whispering for him to take care of himself. Then she turned and walked into the hotel, everything of her body language screaming for him not to follow her.

Kit stood there, watching the back of her as she disappeared into the hotel. **_I_** _love you, Milly. A lot._

 

* * *

 

_January 14 th 2013, Golden Globes Afterparty_

Kit stared at them from across the room. In her hands, she held flute of champagne. Her free arm was snaked around Seth Macfarlane. His arm was draped over her shoulder loosely. _She hates that._ Kit couldn’t help but thought as he watched them. Emilia liked it when she was held tightly or at least firmly. He stiffened as he watched Macfarlane lean over and kiss Emilia on the top of her head. Her eyes drifted shut and she smiled up at him as he pulled away.

Merely by standing in the same room as her, Kit knew how cold she would be, especially wearing that sheer dress which failed to cover her arms. If Macfarlane held her properly, like she deserved to be, he’d notice she was freezing. Kit felt his teeth grinding together as he resisted the urge to peel of his jacket and go to her. He knew Emilia wouldn’t appreciate it, especially since he knew he would not be able to be courteous at this point; not with another man’s hand all over her.

Kit lost sight of them and he could not careless. He drained his glass and slipped out, bent on going home early. He froze as he saw them waiting for the car.

[ ](http://static.cinemarx.ro/poze/cupluri/em/s/emilia-clarke-seth-macfarlane-39207.jpg)

She’d snuggled up to him with his jacket around her. His arm was no longer lax but holding her firmly. She’d probably told him her discomforts and preference.

Kit watched them hop into the car that night, smiling at each other sweetly. It didn’t escape Kit’s notice that they had left in the same car, probably to the same place. That night, he felt a part of him die; the part that stayed with Emilia all this while even when she was no longer his, the part that promised he will love her how she wanted to be love, the part that told himself it was fine by him as long as she was happy.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he glanced to it to see Rose was ringing him.

_Rose…. She loves you, a lot._

With Emilia’s sweet smile to Macfarlane in his mind, he picked up.

_Enough, Kit Harington. This is your life. This is about you. Not about anyone else._

That night, he told Rose that he was grateful for her, that he was ready, that he thought they were great together, that he wanted to date her.

Rose agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funfact: Kit once said his go-to drink at a bar is the IPA and Emilia's specialty as a bartender is the Amaretto Sour - not made up at all but didn't think it is worth quoting at the start. 
> 
> Anyway, EARLY CHAPTER for you guys as a 'Happy last-season-of-Game-of-Thrones Year'! No guesses how I spent my New Year Holiday. 
> 
> So, we see Kit and Emilia back again as a duo in this chapter! Next chapter will be one of the highly anticipated scenes that some of you mentioned (hint: look at the date/ year). Do drop me a comment what you guys think of this chapter, last chapter's comments really spurred me to get this out quick :)


	12. Aneurysm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brass at "Breakfast at Tiffany's" on Broadway are threatening amateur photographers with eviction. The crackdown comes after theatre-goers snapped covert shots this week of Emilia Clarke, who appears nude on stage.  
> Clarke, who stars as Holly Golightly, bares her moon and more, including her breasts, in a titillating bathtub scene.  
> Ignoring strict rules against taking photos inside the Cort Theatre, patrons have been shamelessly shutterbugging the "Game of Thrones" actress with cellphones.  
> \- New York Daily News (Mar 2013) 
> 
> Despite the show’s nudity, ticket sales were less than producers had hoped for. Photos of Emilia without any clothes on also surfaced in the newspaper.  
> (about being naked) “I didn’t know she was against that but if she is I understand it ‘cause she was- I mean the- the kind of misbehaviour and maltreatment that she experienced. Her in particular as a women. (Interviewer: she was mistreated?) Yeah, she was on the front page of The Post because people were taking pictures during our play and they put it on the front page of The Post but I, to this day, ‘cause our show wasn’t that great. We did an adaptation of Breakfast at Tiffany’s for about four weeks. But to this day, I don’t know if it is the publicist for the show like set that up on The Post or if some people were actually taking pictures. I’m a little cynical about that but I’m not really sure what that was. But I will say Emilia is one of the loveliest, loveliest person I have ever worked with.  
> \- Cory Michael Smith (Howard Stern, 2018)
> 
> “Everyone was so scared for her. She’s so young, and nobody would have expected that she could be suffering from something so serious…” Emilia Clarke was admitted to the New York Presbyterian Weill Cornell Medical Center in Manhattan in April with the alleged aneurysm. “Emilia is doing really well now and she should be OK moving forward. No one really knows what caused the aneurysm. It seems like a fluke thing”  
> \- Daily Star (Oct 2013) 
> 
> “Game of Thrones” star Emilia Clarke is stepping out with her Broadway co-star Cory Michael Smith, and the two looked close at Vanity Fair’s glamorous Oscar party. Clarke, who returns as dragon babe Daenerys Targaryen in the HBO series next month, starred with Smith in the ill-fated “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” and while a source close to Clarke insisted “they’re just friends,” guests saw the pair holding hands and slow dancing at the party after chatting with Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran.  
> \- Page Six (Mar 2014)

_April 21 st 2013 _

**Emilia**

He was there _again_.

Not in the VIP row because she didn’t invite him. He didn’t ask for tickets again. _Why would he?_ So she wasn’t expecting him.

His elbows were propped up on the armrests of his seat and his fingers tented before him, barely concealing his smile. His smile widened just so when her stunned gaze stayed on him a moment too long and he knew she has spotted him. He winked at her; _more like a spastic blink-_ Emilia stifled a giggle at the sight of his failed wink through her incredulity of his presence tonight. Then she spotted an arm hooked around his and she no longer have to stifle her smile; it faded. Rose was sitting beside him, watching him rather than watching the play. She watched Rose snake her arm tighter around his arm, prying his fingers apart before lacing hers with his.

“Yes, this is where I live,”

Emilia blinked and turned to Cory. He was smiling at her encouragingly. He knew she has not been feeling her best for weeks now and has been an absolute dear to her; always understanding and supportive whenever she made a mistake.

 _Fred._ Seeing the face which, over a little more than a month and through over 30 performances, now relaxed her and keeps her on her toes to give her best performance, Emilia eased back into her role of Holly Golightly. She cringed exaggeratingly as directed by Sean, the director, before reciting, “how can you bear it?”

The audience chuckled and for the rest of the play, she refrained from looking at that area of the theatre. But no matter how much she tried, she found herself glancing over, if nothing but to catch glimpses of him.

* * *

She held back tears as she walked across the stage on last time for the final curtain call of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Cory met her in the middle with a little dance and she giggled. Filled to the brim with emotions for the last night of her broadway debut, she was mildly aware of Cory’s large hand holding hers as they dipped into a low bow to the audience.

The audience was on their feet; a standing ovation. For a moment, she could not feel the seemingly constant sharp ache of her head; almost.

Then she heard someone practically scream, “KHALEESI!”

She laughed but held Cory’s hand between both of hers; a silent apology. Cory was unfazed, as he was when she had apologised the first few nights. He squeezed her hand before he let go of her hand to bow once more to the audience. Ever the gentleman, Cory stepped back and gestured to her.

She was smiling so wide her face was starting to ache as she stepped up to bow. She glimpsed him then. He was on his feet as well, his hands raised above his head, his face split into a wide grin as he applauded her. He looked almost mad; her crazed fan. She saw, rather than hear, him whistle loudly and covered her face, hoping the burn in her cheeks will subside.

By the end of the curtain call, Emilia was relieved to turn away from the audience for her headache seemed to be getting worse. Emilia did not know if it was due to the noise of the audience or merely the increased stress from the expectations of a perfect performance since it was their final run. Her smile slipped from her face and she felt a warm hand slip around her waist.

She glanced to see that it was Cory. Cradling the cat, she allowed her aching head to rest on his broad shoulder as they made their way off the stage. She felt a firm kiss on the top of her head, a meaningful one but she ignored it.

The cast cheered once they were backstage, hugging members of the crew. Emilia forced a smile as the cat was taken from her and replaced by elated cast and crew who pulled her in for a firm hug. Praises and congratulations were exchanged. When the pain settled behind her eyes, she quickly made her way to the changing room, forcing a smile to anyone she had to wedge past.

She settled into her chair before the mirror. Removing her gloves, she pressed her fingers into her eyes, hoping to alleviate the pain. The-headache-she-has-had-for-weeks was what she was calling it and no matter how much she dismissed it, Emilia knew it started when her nude scene in this play made it to the front covers of The Post.

When she first noticed there was a nude scene, she had balked at it. It was one thing to be nude on camera and another to be nude to a live audience. But Emilia decided to take it up anyway. Seth, her boyfriend at that time, has encouraged it as well, normalising it in the industry. She herself knew it of course, being a big theatre buff herself. That, and the fact that she felt she was ready for this; no stranger to nudity.

But she wasn’t ready. It attracted comments from members of the public; some disapproving, some lascivious and bordering on disturbing, some brutal with derogatory terms that she herself will never say to others. But the worse ones were the ones she got in person, while in the streets of New York or in the bars that she went to hoping to unwind after a tough night.

And on one night, early after the article was just published and she needed a drink, or several. She made the mistake to refuse Cory’s offered company. She had opted to go alone and she has knocked back several drinks to try to forget the comments she had read. She succeeded; she forgot the comments she had read and the wee hours of the morning had her struggling to remember the events of the night before while she gathered her clothes from the floor of a vacant hotel room. She didn’t even have the courage to ask the front desk who she arrived with as she paid for the room.

Emilia choked on nothing at the memory, or lack thereof, from that night. Her eyes flew open when she heard a knock.

She wiped her eyes of tears that has escaped before she said, “c-come in,” her smile was ready but there was no need. It was just the stage assistant who knew she was unwell.

He popped his head in. When he found her, his eyes were apologetic as he said, “hi, sorry to bother you-“ Emilia made a mild noise of dismissal for his apology, waving it away, “but an audience is requesting to see you… I know you don’t have any invited guests for tonight but he said he knows you personally-“

“Let him in,” Emilia straightened, blinking.

The stage assistant paused, surprised, “are you sure-”  

“Yes,” she said with unusual certainty. She knew why he was puzzled. She was normally more cautious and would ask for a description of the person first due to some rabid fans who have tried to lie their way backstage; not all of whom were well-meaning after that article.

“Alright,” the stage assistant nodded slowly before disappearing. The door clicked shut behind him.

Emilia chewed her nails absently as she waited. She glanced to the mirror and stared at herself. Her makeup was still on and so, she looked presentable. She carded her fingers through her hair nervously but stilled midway. _He used to do this. Does he still?_

Two knocks.

 _And only you would knock only twice._ She mused. _At least it’s not only once._

“Yep?” she said, feigning a flippant tone when her heart was racing.

The door opened and Emilia turned to see a bright yellow bouquet of sunflowers popping into the room. She stifled a giggle as she stood from her chair, her headache already subsiding.

“Kitten,” she droned and she heard an audible and familiar groan behind the door. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice and she giggled.

“Busted,” he replied as he slipped in after the bouquet. Kit was grinning as he thrusted the bouquet at her. Emilia almost burst into tears at the sight of him. _I’m here for you, I will always be here for you._ Kit has promised, seemingly a lifetime ago, and here he was; _when I need someone the most._ She refrained, with great effort, from rushing into his arms. Instead, she took the bouquet.

But Kit has other plans, “get the fuck over here, Clarke,” was the only preamble she got before he tugged her by her wrist into his embrace. Before she knew what was happening, Emilia found herself in her, still, favourite place in the world. The comfort it gave her was immeasurable; it told her everything was and will be ok. She had never felt safer. In that moment, Emilia thought he was all that was holding her together, when she no longer could.

She felt a firm kiss on the side of her head and her heart swelled. _And only you can make me feel that way-_

“Emilia!”

She froze. The softness around her tensed and was suddenly all muscle. The firm, warm enclosure around her loosened and fell at his sides. Emilia was staring at his handsome visage, pleading with him silently; to take her back into his arms, to hide her from what she might have to endure. She could not bear seeing them together, not now. Her eyes swam with tears but he didn’t see for his face fell and he stepped aside.

Emilia swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing back her tears as she etched a wide grin over her face, “Rose!” Emilia thought her cheer sounded a little flat and unconvincing but Rose did not seem to notice. Emilia opened her arms and welcomed the beautiful red-head. Rose squeezed her firmly. Kit was still avoiding her gaze as they hugged, “come, sit down,” Emilia gestured to the chairs.

Rose squealed, “I’m so happy for you, it was so good and dare I say, even better than the last time we watched!”

“Really?” Emilia felt a tentative smile cross her face as she glanced to Kit.

Kit caught her eye, “I wouldn’t say better,” her face fell slightly, “I’d say different than the other weeks,” Emilia raised her brow in confusion, unsure if she should be happy with that comment and Kit shrugged, “makes it interesting, to see you grow into Holly every night, such a complex character. The balance was perfect tonight,” his feedback was heartfelt and he was serious, Emilia could tell from his tone. She smiled, utterly chuffed for that was exactly what she was going for; to play a little bit of Emilia into Holly. And suddenly, the comments from the public and even the critics seemed less significant to her.

“Thank you, both for coming,” Emilia tore her gaze from Kit to rest on Rose, “again,” she chuckled, “honestly, is New York _that_ boring?” Emilia teased.  

Rose laughed, “nope but can’t help it when I’m dating a boring bloke,”

The unintentional stab went straight to her heart. A sharp pain in her head accompanied it but a strange numbness that washed over her made it easier for her grin to remain unwavering.

Kit rolled his eyes, “it’s either this or the one about the dog’s dream. Would you want to sit through a dog’s dream for 2 hours?”

Rose laughed, “well, when you put it like that…” she circled his arm, hugging it to her. Her adoration of him was plain to see.

Emilia scoffed through her constricted airway, “good to know, guys. Thanks for putting me above a dog’s dream. Best mates ever,” she mocked a scowl.    

“We try,” Rose grinned, propping her chin onto his shoulder. Kit smiled a small, tight, smile as he turned to look at Rose. Their faces were in such close proximity, Emilia thought their lips brushed but she couldn’t bring herself to look any longer. She averted her eyes and busied herself at her vanity. It was then Emilia thought she saw two of her hairbrush, two of everything really.

Her world starting spinning and Emilia grasped her vanity firmly to regain her balance.

“Clarke?” his hand was on her elbow instantly. She could feel the warmth of him on her forearm with the proximity at which he was now standing. Emilia looked up at Kit to see a blurred version of him, “you okay?” she could hear the panic in his seemingly steady voice.

“Yeah,” she replied immediately, to soothe the strangled sound from him, “don’t worry,” she blurted and silently chided herself, knowing he would worry more right that instant.

“Sit down,” he muttered and she felt him guide her back. She sat heavily into her chair. She felt his hand on her cheek before it went to her forehead.

“’M fine,” Emilia garbled out. His knuckle brushed her cheek as it left her face and she looked up to see two worried faces looking down at her, now clearer, “just tired is all, long night,” she mumbled.  

“You sure?” Rose knelt before her, a hand on her knee. Emilia looked at her freckled face, nodding firmly. Rose studied her face closer for a moment longer and Emilia schooled her face to that of serenity, “take care,” Rose said, caressing her arm before standing, “we should probably go so you can change and rest early,”

Emilia leaped at the opportunity and summoned all her strength through the pain for a wide grin, “thanks,” she stood, determined to not teeter. And she didn’t, “thank you so much for coming,” she said, not daring to look at Kit, “I’ll walk you out-“

“Oh no, Emilia, don’t be silly. We’re past that,” Rose hugged her briefly but firmly and Emilia pressed her cheek to hers to bid her goodnight.

She glanced over Kit to see him still studying her intently, “we should stay, Rose,” his tone was teasing but his eyes were serious and staring right at her, “since she is well enough to walk us out,”

Rose rolled her eyes and tutted at Kit, “don’t be mean, Kit,”

“Yes, don’t be a dick,” Emilia snapped, praying that her feistiness would convince Kit to leave and not question her any further, “I have better things to do,”

Rose grinned and nudged her with her elbow, “wrap party with that cute co-star? You two look like you are both starving for a second kiss, and more,” Rose winked.  

“Rose Leslie!” Emilia chided. She began walking to the door when she felt the dizziness subside. But Emilia knew it would only be a matter of time before it came back. Rose matched her footsteps and it was a moment past before Kit followed. Emilia brought them to the exit closest to her dressing room, which happened to be the most inconspicuous exit of the Cort Theatre.

At the exit, Emilia was just short of pushing them out and closing the door as she clutched the door for purchase. Nausea rose in her throat and Emilia swallowed it back with a large swallow which she hoped they didn’t see in the dim lighting of the exit sign. She pressed her cheeks to both of Rose’s in goodbye. Then she turned to Kit. He was standing rigidly, his eyes studying her with uncomfortable intensity. And Emilia did not like the furrow between his brows and the worry lines on his forehead.

So she pulled him in by his shoulders, trying not to notice the familiarity of the definition of his shoulders under her palms. She pressed her cheek to his, kissing before drawing back to touch their other cheek. She did so quickly, trying to ignore his scent of amber, cedar. It was so fundamentally Kit and she knew it so well. She tore herself from him, averting his eye. Rose smiled at her and slipped her hand into Kit’s. Emilia forced a smile.  

But Kit did not turn from her. Rose tugged him once, twice- _Kitten, please…_ thrice. _Don’t go. I have so much to tell you…so much I want to tell you…_ He relented and turned and they walked away.

Emilia forced a smile, watching them leave. Rose leaned closer and whispered something to him. Then Kit turned to her and they kissed. Her smile faded and Emilia felt tears flood her eyes. She turned and closed the door behind her.

Looking at the floor and trying not to sob, at least not until she got to her dressing room, Emilia suddenly felt a sharp severe pain in her head that spread to behind her eyes. She has never felt anything like it. It was intolerable and overwhelmed her instantly. She heard a cry of pain and it very well could be her own. The floor she was staring at blurred and entirely disappeared behind darkness. She could no longer see.

And then she was falling.

_Kitten._

 

**Kit**

“Kit,”

“Okay, sure,” he mumbled.

“Kit!” He startled. Looking up, Kit found himself at the receiving end of Rose’s, rare, annoyed glare, “are you even listening?”

They were sitting in a diner at the airport, ready to enjoy some supper while waiting for their flight. Kit has flat out refused to go to a bar. Rose was confused because it was his usual choice of a ‘supper’ spot. But Kit simply wasn’t in a mood tonight; his entire being was tensed with worry since he left the theatre.

“Sorry,” he murmured, having a sip of water. He realised too late that he has drank from her glass instead of his own, “sorry,” he said pathetically again, unsure if he should return her glass or simply offer her his glass.

“Are you alright?” Rose asked, covering his hand with her pale one. Kit gazed down at her hand.

He wanted to tell Rose, he truly did but he couldn’t bring himself to. In their time spent together dating, 3 months now, Rose has been nothing short of amazing. He has had plenty of laughs with her and attention and love from her. Kit could honestly think of nothing more he needed or wanted from her. He liked her and sometimes, as he watched her laugh, looking absolutely breath-taking, Kit thought he might love her. But it was in times like this when Kit realised he couldn’t talk to her; when his entire body was wracked with worry and fear.

The feeling, he felt, was unexplainable; he couldn’t explain it to Rose.

Taking a deep breath, looking into Rose’s sincere blue eyes, Kit forced himself to speak, “do you think Clarke is alright?”

“Emilia?” Rose repeated. They have long gotten over the differences in the way they referred to Emilia Clarke. Rose once asked him why he doesn’t simply call her Emilia. Kit didn’t reply her but knew he couldn’t face that he could no longer call her Milly without sending himself into a cycle of hurt, “she looks fine when we left,”

Every fibre in Kit objected to that simple statement of observation but he could not really say why exactly. _Her eyes hadn’t crinkle at the edge like they would if she was fine. She walked funny. Her cheek kisses were quicker than they used to be. Her lips did not even touch my cheek when she kissed me, usually they’d even linger._ It sounded stupid even in his mind.

Rose was still staring at him expectantly. When he still didn’t say anything, she let out a breath, “Kit, she said herself that she’s probably just tired,”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “it’s just a feeling I have that something is wrong,” Kit half-expected her to go with his ‘feeling’, even if just to humour him but Rose huffed again, bordering on frustration now. 

She leaned forward and squeezed his hand, “don’t worry, Emilia is a grown woman. She can take care of herself,” _no she can’t. She can’t but she doesn’t like people to worry about her so she’ll pretend. And she’s a fantastic actor,_ “besides,” Rose started, her tone teasing and Kit met her eye once more to see a beautiful twinkle in them, “that cute bloke, Cory, probably has that covered. Did you see how he guided her down stage as if she couldn’t walk down without his help?” Rose giggled.  

 _Yes._ He did. Kit could still see the way his hand rested on her waist, pulling her to him. Kit almost curled his hand, under hers, into fists but he refrained. Kit was then suddenly desperate to convince her. He wasn’t sure what he wanted out of it but he wanted Rose to believe him, even a little, “didn’t she seem a little eager for us to leave?” Kit asked, something abnormal that came to mind and he didn’t think sounded stupid. _She’s always loved company of close friends and I’d say we are close enough. You didn’t see how happy she was when she saw me, she looked like she would never want me to leave…_

Rose snorted, “of course she’d be eager,” she rolled her eyes, “you blokes can be so daft sometimes-“ Kit winced inwardly at her choice of words. He hated being insulted like this, outside of the context of a joke. But Kit was starting to learn that Rose was less sensitive to things such as word choices and Kit has never had the chance or saw the need to bring it up, “she probably wants to spend some time with _Cory_. It’s their last night they will spend together, with a totally valid reason,”

Kit winced a second time, unable to conceal this one, “it’s not like that!” he hissed angrily before he could stop himself. Rose startled, staring at him, stunned into silence. Guilt filled him, “there’s something wrong,” he muttered. Rose kept quiet and when Kit could not stand it any longer, he shot to his feet. People in the diner turned to look at them when Kit’s chair scrapped noisily on the floor.

“Where are you going?” Rose frowned.

“Cort Theatre,” Kit replied. Without waiting for her response, Kit made to walk past her.

Rose caught his hand before he could completely pass her, “you’re kidding,” she laughed weakly, in disbelief. She searched his face for any sign that he was just taking the piss out of her but found none, “we’ve already bought plane tickets back to London and you are due for filming-“

“I don’t care about that,” Kit said, schooling his tone to remain polite. It turned out cold, stoic.

Rose flinched, “alright… at least call her first?”

Kit stared at her, “I already did… she didn’t pick up,”

She rolled her eyes, as if the reason for it was simple; the one she mentioned before, the one Kit refused to believe. When she met his eye to see he was still resolute in going, she asked, “and me? Am I supposed to follow you back to Cort Theatre and forgo the plane ticket for no particular reason? Apart from the fact that you’re probably getting your usual ridiculous jitters about flying again,”

 _I stopped having those bad jitters, to the point of running from flights, after I could pat the outside of a plane thrice._ Kit thought. These days, he’d probably just stay in his seat, paralysed with fear until it landed but he would board no problem; if only because he could pat the plane and assure himself it would be fine. He had mentioned it to Rose before to explain why he had to pat the outside of a plane.

Every second that passed while he argued with her got Kit more on edge and he was almost sick with worry at this point. _Why can’t she understand?_ The composure cracked and Kit’s face crumbled from sheer worry. Rose’s eyes widened as she took in his fearful expression, “please let me go,” he whispered, staring at her hand on his wrist.

“Kit,” Rose stared at him as if she did not recognise him and she probably didn’t. Kit rarely showed his panicked side to anyone and he was now on the verge of tears, “what is this actually about?”

“ _Milly_ ,” Kit heard himself whisper, “something is wrong with her,” he told her thickly. Rose raised a brow in doubt, “I just know it,” _It’s just a feeling I have…._ Kit knew then he could never explain it, to Rose. Even if he did, she wouldn’t understand.

Rose’s eyes studied his panicked face, taking in his watery eyes and trembling lip.

“Come with me,” Kit said. He couldn’t imagine the fear that’ll completely overwhelm him if he were to take a taxi back alone, trapped alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know if she could but Rose’s presence might make it better- “she’s your best friend,” in a final plea, Kit reminded her. _Milly wouldn’t have hesitated if she were you and you were where she is._ Kit was so close to blurting but bit his tongue.

Rose blinked slowly, once. When she opened her eyes, there was a sort of clarity in her eyes, as if she was finally seeing something for the first time. Rose replied quietly then, “she’s your best friend too,” Kit paused, unsure what she was getting at and honestly, too on edge to comprehend, “is she?” Rose asked, almost demanded, “just a best friend?”

Kit paused. He then said instead, equally quietly, “something is wrong, with her,”

With that, Kit yanked his wrist from her grasp quickly and sprinted from the airport. He jumped into the first taxi he saw, ignoring the man who shouted profanities at him for probably stealing his taxi. But Kit honestly didn’t see him at all.

“Cort Theatre please, and hurry,” Kit said quickly before leaning back into the seat, pulling the seatbelt. He glanced out as the taxi sped away. He could’ve sworn he saw Rose exit the doors of the airport, looking around. _I’m sorry, Rose…_

Through the ride, flashes of minute hints from Milly that something was wrong with her, or in her life, came to him, taunting him. He could suddenly see the way her smile wavered just as she turned from the audience after the curtain call. He could see that she had needed to rest her head on Cory’s shoulder, rather than wanting to. He could hear the way she answered the door, overly casually as if she had something to hide. He could see the way her face twitched, threatening to cry when she saw him as if she was relieved to see a familiar face. He could hear the way her words to assure them she was fine was strangely slurred. He could see the way she spoke less and her smile was either too subdued or too wide, feigned. He could see the way she tried not to throw up as she showed them the way out. He could see the way she clutched the door, as if if she didn’t, she’d faint.

Then Kit thought he could see her faint, dropping to the floor lifelessly, behind him as he walked away obliviously. _Did she call for me? I wouldn’t hear her if she did._

 _Kiss me._ Rose had said to him. _You haven’t kissed me all night._ Kit has kissed her then to appease her. Rose was an attentive kisser. She’d figured out what he liked and Kit’s worry was momentarily chased from his mind, enough for him to walk away. Until the airport when the worry settled and seemingly took root, refusing to be dismissed.

It wasn’t long ago when Kit has felt the same feeling, only this time, he actually knew what, or who he was worried about. Nonetheless, back then, _she_ believed him; even if he didn’t believe himself.  

_“Kitten? Is everything okay?” Emilia asked him, to his surprise. He didn’t think she would notice anything was wrong. Kit shook his head dismissively stiffly. She glanced over and took a step in the queue before gazing up at him again. He could not take his eyes off the planes through the windows; could not stop imagining one of those plunging into a watery death or bursting into a giant fireball in the sky. He gulped, “Kitten,” she cupped his cheek and Kit revelled in the warmth of her soft palm._

_Kit eventually looked down to her and asked weakly, “maybe we should catch the next flight up?” he hated himself for asking that of her but he couldn’t help it._

_She raised a brow, “why?”_

_He shrugged, “I have a bad feeling about this, Milly,” it sounded ridiculous, Kit knew. But he felt he should tell her anyhow; if for no reason apart from the fact that she has asked. Emilia glanced at the queue and stepped away from it; tugging him by his hand with her. She smiled and gestured for the man behind them to go ahead._

_Kit followed her, his sweaty hand holding hers firmly, “what are you talking about?” she asked gently. She looked as worried as he felt, ridiculously._

_He glanced to the fast disappearing queue before he sighed, “it sounds stupid… but I can’t shake the feeling that something will happen on this flight. It just… doesn’t feel right,”_

_She pursed her lips, as if contemplating._

_Kit looked at her, his eyes glancing between hers, “I know it’s stupid, just ignore me. Let’s go,” he licked his lips and turned from her, making to join the queue again._

_Emilia tightened her hold on him, stopping him, “hey,” she frowned, “Kitten-“_

_“Just ignore it, Mils-“_

_“I can’t,” she refused to budge and Kit turned back to her, utterly surprised, “if you feel really uncomfortable, we_ _can_ _take the next flight up,” she offered._

Kit glanced down at his hands to see that, like that day when he was about to board the plane, they were trembling. He could still feel her small but firm hand in his, steadying him and assuring him. She had stroked his arm, trying to comfort him as the plane took off that day. Kit now felt he was probably nervous because he did not want to go to Belfast. He did not want to go into season 2. It costed him the most precious thing he has ever had; _her._

Some part of him probably knew, even then, it would happen.

The taxi slowed and Kit turned to see the Cort Theatre. There was a crowd outside the Theatre and Kit handed the driver a large bill. He was out the door before the taxi even came to a complete stop. He ignored the shout of the driver as he dashed across the street, weaving through busy traffic. The honks from the cars turned heads but Kit managed to weave his way to the entrance of the theatre. Kit got closer to see the crowd was dispersing.

_What the hell is going on?_

It was becoming evident then that whatever caught their attention was over. Desperate for any sort of information but afraid, Kit eventually tapped the shoulder of a woman, “e-excuse me ma’am. Can you tell me what is going on?” He tried to feign a smile of curiosity but failed with his stomach doing backflips, threatening to throw up his dinner all of over the poor woman’s shoes.

“An ambulance just came and picked up someone from inside the theatre,”

Kit stared at her, his mind almost unable to comprehend what he was hearing. His heart seemed to have stopped entirely. The woman frowned at him and looked to be about to leave but Kit managed before she does, “s-sorry. Do you have any idea who it is?”

“Don’t know her but it is one of the actress from the play that had its final run tonight?” the woman said, “heard she’s a beauty-“ Kit almost keeled over. He stumbled and the woman grabbed him around his arm in an attempt to steady him, “sir?”

“D-do you k-know where the ambulance will bring her?” Kit whispered shakily. He clenched his teeth and fisted his hands but could not stop the tremors.

“Probably the NYP Weill Cornell Medical Center, it’s the nearest-” she shrugged.

Kit straightened, “where is that?”

The woman pointed behind her, “over there, about a 15 minutes drive-“ Kit took off in the direction he was pointed to. On the first main street he came to, he tried to hail a taxi but all of them were occupied. Kit was on the verge of jumping in front of one to stop it and beg for the passenger to give up the taxi to him. But the thought that arguing could cost him more time led him to run the rest of the way. He’d only stop to make sure he was headed in the right direction.

_Milly… please… please be alright…_

By the time he made it to the Accidents and Emergency department, his hair was plastered to his sweaty forehead, as was his jumper. His skin was clammy and freezing in the cold weather. Perspiration was running down his back and his legs, making him even colder. He was gasping for every ragged breath as he dashed straight to the counter, “E-Emilia Clarke,” he managed, “please,” he breathed out.

The lady looked utterly bored as she met his eye, “Clark,” she looked down at the computer and typed.

“W-with a-a-an E,” Kit added. He clutched his stomach, which was throbbing in sharp pain from the stitch that has developed from his sprint as he looked around. His eyes darted over every face he could see, frantically hoping to see that one face. But he didn’t see her.

Then a set of doors on his left swung open and Kit spun around to see two nurses pushing a stretcher between them. He glimpsed brunette hair on the patient and his feet instantly brought him to the stretcher.

“Milly-“

“Oy!” the nurse shouted as he leaned over the stretcher.

It wasn’t her. Thankfully, the patient was unconscious.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled as he allowed the nurse to push him aside. He ignored the reproachful looks of the staff and patients as he wandered distractedly back to the counter.

Instead of a bored look, he was now rewarded with an angry glare from the woman behind the counter. Kit was mildly aware of two large men, security guards, staring at him from the door, “she has just been transferred to the neurological department-“

“What?” he whispered shakily, “where?”

“Level 1, block 3-“

“Thanks,” he murmured before taking off down the corridor, following the sign that pointed him to the right block. By the time Kit got to the block, it took him another few precious and traumatising minutes to find out that she was in the operating theatre and where it was exactly.

It was where Kit found himself, sitting at the base of a white wall. On his left, he could see the double doors of the operating theatre. Above the door, the red sign was lit up. On his right was a vacant corridor. He glanced down both sides before the severity of the situation, the danger she was  in and the very real threat that he could lose her, crashed upon him entirely. A ragged sob tore from his lips; one of raw terror.

“No no no no no no no no no,” he sobbed, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes, “M-Milly,” he whispered, “oh god, no,” he cried, his body wracking with each sob, “please…” he whimpered.

* * *

The double doors eventually opened and Kit bolted to his feet and was in front of the masked surgeon in a flash. The surgeon peeled off his mask and his gloves as he regarded Kit.

“How is she?” Kit rasped out, his throat parched and his voice raw from crying.

The surgeon’s gaze finally settled on his eyes, “what is your relation to the patient?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Kit replied thickly. The surgeon seem to hesitate and Kit quickly explained, “her family is not here, they’re in London. I’m all she’s got now. Please… How is she?” he was so close to dropping to his knees.  

The surgeon regarded him, seemingly suspiciously before he said, “she’s fine,”

 _Thank God…_ Kit heard a cry of relief and it took him a moment to realise it was his own. Tears made it hard for him to see the surgeon’s face so Kit hurriedly wiped it away, sniffing, “s-sorry. What happened to her?” 

The surgeon’s eyes have seemingly softened a little as he explained, “she had a ruptured brain aneurysm that led to a subarachnoid haemorrhage,” Kit did not understand a word beyond brain but his heart wrenched painfully with each word of her condition the surgeon uttered, “a swell in her brain ruptured and led to bleeding in her brain,” he almost did keel over then, managing to stay on his feet only by the initial assurance by the surgeon that she is in fact, fine now, “it’s a lucky thing that she was brought in early. We managed to fix the rupture with endovascular coiling through an artery in her groin. But we will have to keep her here, in the intensive care unit, for about 2 to 3 weeks to monitor her. The risk of bleeding again is still significant within the first 14 days of the haemorrhage,”

Kit did not realise he was holding his breath until the surgeon stopped speaking and was waiting expectantly for any questions, presumably, that he may have, “h-how long has she had the bleeding? Do you know?”

The surgeon pondered for a moment before he said, “not long. She’s lucky in that regard, that she was sent in early. Some patients never make it to the hospital…” Kit blanched, feeling dizzy at the thought that suggestion evoked, “but she’s probably had this aneurysm for a while,”

“W-will she be okay? After she wakes…” Kit stammered.

“You mean any side effects?” the surgeon asked. Kit nodded mutely, “there may be some remaining blood clots in her brain from the bleeding that may affect her. We will have to do more tests when she wakes,”

Before the surgeon can say more, the double doors to the operation theatre opened and two nurses were wheeling a hospital bed out. Kit was by the bed in the next instant, stumbling to walk alongside the moving bed.

There she was, looking absolutely tiny and vulnerable on the bed. Her face was pale, her lips more colourless than Kit would’ve liked but nonetheless, his body sagged against the side of her bed in sheer fatigue and relief, his lungs deflating, “hey…” he whispered. He brushed her soft cheek with his knuckles gently, “you’re okay. I’m here, I’m right here. I’ve got you,” it took everything for him to stop himself from plucking her from the bed and cradling her to him protectively.  

Kit wasn’t sure if it was the nurse or the surgeon but one of them spoke up, “Sir? We have to bring her to the ICU as soon as possible for her oxygen-“

“Sure, of course, I’m sorry,” Kit sniffled and stepped back reluctantly. His eyes did not leave her pale sleeping visage even as they wheeled her away. His feet tailed her mechanically until the nurses brought her into a lift and told him to visit her in the ICU on another floor. He had nodded and made his way there quickly.

Kit watched them settle her in, hooking her up to the all the machines by her bed. All the while, he stared at her face, willing her to wake up but she doesn’t, even when the nurses jostled her to adjust her leg. Before they left and gave him the go-ahead to visit her, they informed him that her wound was situated at her groin and should be left to recover for a while. Kit felt his face heat up at what they were suggesting. But they wore the same stoic, fatigued expression and Kit supposed he understood, they were with her in that operation theatre for hours.

“Thank you,” Kit managed to choke out through his parched throat as they left. They nodded but Kit was already in the chair beside her bed by the time they closed the door quietly. He studied her face for a moment longer before he glanced over her body, wondering if he could hold her hand. Promising himself he would be gentle with her, he shifted aside the thin blanket, wondering what good that thin blanket would be in such a cold place. His hand was trembling in anticipation to touch her as he reached for her hand

He winced as he felt how cold her hand was, how limp, lifeless, it felt in his. Usually red and flushed, her hand was now the cream colour of her skin. He picked it up gently, bringing it to his lips. He brushed his lips over her smooth knuckles tenderly. For the thousandth time, Kit marvelled at the smallness of her hand while in his. She didn’t like her hands. She thought her fingers were too fat, short and fleshy to the point of being swollen around her nails.

But Kit didn’t think so. He liked her hands; how they looked and especially how they felt when he held them. Nestled in his hand, her fingers were slender and ended with small squarish nails. He could tell from the look of them that she had probably just cut them. Smiling wistfully, he kissed each knuckle carefully. Pressing the back of her hand to his cheek, Kit gazed at her, sleeping so peacefully.

“Did you know how many fucking times I’ve watched that play?” Kit whispered, breaking the silence in the room, save the constant beeping of the heart monitor.  

Truthfully, Kit himself had lost count. After the first time he watched her with the rest of the Game of Thrones cast members, Kit had sneaked back a couple of times to watch her, always taking caution to buy those seats in the back where it would be too dark for her to make out his face. He thought she was extraordinary in every single one of them. Like he mentioned to her, she delivered slight nuances in the character each night, it made watching her a joy. He had only bought tickets so close and so visible to the stage because Rose wanted it, after insisting to tag along.

“You’re so good, every night, you’re making me feel bad for myself as a fellow thespian,” he murmured, “and watching you naked wasn’t a bad incentive either,” he teased, smirking mischievously; he had expected and wanted her to blush and come back with a smart, filthy retort. But when Kit looked at her face to see how pale and unchanging she still was, his smirk fell, “watching you with another man in a tube was painful though,” he continued thickly, “well, you know me, jealous little Kitten, even if I have no rights to be,”

His eyes flickered frantically to the heart rate monitor when the steady beep of it came a moment too late. He stared at it unblinkingly until it resumed its steady rhythm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head in shame, “I knew, I knew the moment I saw you on the stage, and your reaction when you spotted me, that something wasn’t quite right,” he gritted his teeth and said angrily through it, “but I didn’t think-“ he paused to swallow a rising sob, “I didn’t think you weren’t feeling well. I guess a stupid, selfish part of me wished your reaction was because you saw me and I just have some sort of effect on you, still,” he laughed bitterly as he said it aloud, “stupid, and wishful thinking. I know. I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did,”

“So…..I deserve this, the fear, the panic. But nothing can compare to how you must have felt… how scared, alone and in pain you were… all because I-I left you there-“ his voice cracked and the tears he has held at bay rolled over his cheeks, “I left you there when I knew. In my heart I knew you needed me and I left you,” Kit bit his tongue so hard to stifle his sob, he thought he tasted blood, “I’m sorry… I’m here now. And I’ve got you, okay?” his hold on her tightened to the point he knew she would smile at if she were awake, “I promise,”

* * *

Kit had woken with his face pressed to the bedcloth of Emilia’s hospital bed, still sticky with tears. She was still sound asleep. He glanced to the time to see that he has slept for only less than half an hour. It was 4am.

And it was cold. Kit tried to rub her hand warm before he stood from his seat. He took one last glance at her before he slipped out. He went to the counter to ask the nurses to bring in one or two more blanket for her as she was deathly afraid of the cold. Then Kit walked down the corridor in search of some coffee. As he walked, he wondered if her family has been informed of what has happened. Knowing it’ll comfort her greatly to see her family there when she woke, Kit fished out his phone and texted Lola; the only person he could think of who would probably have the number of her family. He provided her the address and the ward number. Lola replied instantly, assuring him she will inform her family.

Kit hesitated as he was about to lock his phone, staring at the single missed call he got from Rose. A quick calculation in his head told him she had probably called him before she got on the flight back to London. Whether Rose wanted to check in on Emilia or him, Kit neither knew nor cared. He just wanted to get back to see if Emilia has woken. He got his coffee from a little old worn-down vending machine in the corner before he turned to head back to her ward.

As he approached, Kit glanced into the room by the glass and froze, stepping back instinctively so he remained just out of sight.

Leaning over her, Cory was kissing her.

And she was kissing him back.

 

**Emilia**

_Patient, female, 26 year old-_

“No, 25, my birthday has not passed,” she wanted to tell them but she couldn’t seem to open her mouth to speak. And something told her they wouldn’t have heard her anyway.

She didn’t know how long but as she floated in and out of darkness, hovering along the middle, all she heard were a garbled mix of voices, professionals discussing her amongst themselves. She couldn’t make out one from another with any form of clarity; she didn’t recognise a single voice. That, with the pain, frightened her. Until.

_You’re okay. I’m here, I’m right here. I’ve got you._

That one voice, so familiar and that tone, so gentle and loving. And the words; the ones that evoked so much memories. It all made her heart swell.

_I’m here now. And I’ve got you, okay? I promise._

With herculean strength, she pried her eyes open. _I promise…_ She could still hear his lovely voice assuring her as an unfamiliar white ceiling came into clarity. Despite not recognising her surroundings and feeling so much discomfort, she wasn’t the least bit afraid. She felt safe; protected. _I’m here now._ She slowly fisted her hand, swearing she could still feel his hand in hers, holding her firmly just the way she preferred.

 _Kitten._ She might’ve whispered but when she parted her lips to speak, her mouth was dry, making it impossible to talk.

She heard someone shift beside her and she could’ve teared with relief that he was with her.

But the face that appeared wasn’t him.

“Cory?” She croaked, confused.

“How are you feeling?” he smiled at her.

She didn’t bother to return the smile, “Kit?” she whispered, furrowing her brow from the effort it took her to utter one more word. But Cory knew Kit already, Emilia mentioned him numerous times.

Cory frowned, puzzled, “He was at the play but I didn’t see him since he left there. You want some water?”

 _He wasn’t even here._ Emilia stared vacantly at the ceiling as Cory fetched her a glass of water. Then she remembered; he had left with Rose. She could still see them kissing if she closed her eyes. _He wasn’t here. Was that Cory? Did I mistake Cory for him? Because I want him here instead of Cory? Because I need him? Because I miss him? Or simply because I still love him…_

Cory has hinted his interest for her more than once and in a less than subtle manner. Emilia did not blame the poor bloke; it was hard not to fall in love with someone you kissed almost every day for 30 days and got naked with. She herself has developed a sort of fondness for him as well. Cory is a sweet guy, always surprising her with fresh flowers, once even in front of the entire audience after a run of the play. She got on with Cory alright and has become unbelievably comfortable with him. And he wasn’t bad looking; not at all. More than once, Cory has taken her hand and Emilia realised she didn’t mind it, relishing it even as they walked the streets of New York; it made her feel safe amidst chaos caused by the article by The Post.

She watched Cory request for a straw from the nurse for her to sip from the glass of water, “hold on a sec,” he told her as he waited impatiently for the straw. Emilia glanced down to see that she had on about three layers of blanket, keeping her adequately warm. She smiled, appreciative towards Cory’s sentiments when he probably requested for it. When the straw came, Cory came to her side and carefully adjusted it to her lips. Cory was watching her lips part to drink it intently. The moment she has had enough, before she can even push it away with her lips, Cory has already noticed. He was an extremely considerate bloke, observant to the letter. Cory pulled the straw from her lips and she watched the look in his eyes soften as he gently wiped her bottom lip with a tissue.

“Cory,” she croaked out. He turned to her, expecting her to ask for more water as he held out the glass of water. Smiling, she shook her head, “no thank you. Hold my hand, will you?”

It could’ve been the way she asked it or that she has never reciprocated his affections. Cory seemed surprised. He smiled as he placed the glass down on the table by her bed. She followed his hand with her eyes as he gently picked her hand up in his. His hand was large, and warm. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to recall the feel of the hand in hers that she felt when she woke.

Then she felt Cory’s lips on hers. Her first instinct was to balk but the tenderness of the kiss, something she missed terribly, made her pause. Tentatively, she kissed him, eager to delve into the safety he provided her in such a vulnerable place and situation. She pulled away after a while, whispering, “thank you, for being here,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update on time for you guys because you were (again) amazing with the comments last chapter! I will go back to reply them after I have a break from writing this. 
> 
> Do let me know what you guys think of this chapter! I know we are in a difficult spot but don't tell me you guys aren't even the least bit curious about how Kit and Emilia could have gone through these years not being together?
> 
> P.S. for those who are curious about what happened between Seth and Emilia: 
> 
> "Her last romance, with Family Guy creator Seth Macfarlane, broke up after six months in March 2013 over the fact they were always apart.  
> A source said at the time: 'They are no longer dating. It was really a location challenge.  
> 'She has been in Europe shooting Game of Thrones and he is based in California, so it was hard to make it work despite the distance. They have remained friends.'  
> \- Dailymail (April 2014)
> 
> P.P.S Yes, Cory came out as 'queer' a few years after this. But it is still possible for them to have dated for a bit because of what was reported during Vanity Fair a year later and also how they were holding hands in this video  
> https://youtu.be/LuJoecSz12w  
> Also, finding out one's sexuality is a process and I wouldn't be surprised if Cory was attracted to Emilia, dated her and to realise later that he is 'queer'.


	13. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Game of Thrones,” HBO, Outstanding Achievement in Drama -- Kit Harington (Jon Snow) and Emilia Clarke (Daenerys Targaryen) picked up the award. "Wait until you meet Emilia," Harington said before she arrived. "I think she's even more beautiful as a brunette." In fact, Clarke in real life is gorgeous with dark hair; she's rarely recognized as Dany, she said, "and I like that." Harington, who said while sipping a cocktail that he was thinking of his cast mates filming "in the mud and muck" in Northern Ireland, had to jump on a plane right afterward to get back to the set. 
> 
> \- St. Louis Post-Dispatch (Aug 2013)
> 
> The pair (Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke) appeared at the Beverly Hilton Hotel to accept the Television Critics Association Awards Best Drama honor Saturday night. They were later spotted hitting West Hollywood hot spot Chateau Marmont.
> 
> \- UPI (Aug 2013)
> 
> There may be an epic battle on the horizon over Game of Thrones beauty Emilia Clarke – because Cory Michael Smith and Kit Harington are vying for her attention. Emilia, 27, has been dating Cory since last year, after meeting on the set of their Broadway play Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Emilia has recently developed strong feelings for Kit though.  
> “Emilia has been telling friends that they would make a cute couple,” reveals an insider. Kit made it clear that the feeling is mutual, which has left the actress at a crossroads over who to choose. Pals say that she has fallen hard for Kit, although she has doubts because the pair hardly ever see each other since they shoot in different countries.  
> “He’s usually in Iceland or Ireland, while she films in Morocco or Croatia… she’s very comfortable with Cory but is completely enamoured by Kit. You can see that those two are on a collision course with romance.
> 
> \- Star Magazine, print edition (Apr 2014)
> 
> IS WESTEROS READY FOR A STARK TARGARYEN ALLIANCE? GAME OF THRONES’ EMILIA CLARKE AND KIT HARINGTON ON ‘COLLISION COURSE WITH ROMANCE’  
> She made a point of declaring herself still single last month, but maybe not for much longer, as it's been reported that Emilia Clarke is being pursued by her co-star Kit Harington... and another suitor.  
> The Game of Thrones beauty raised eyebrows when she appeared at the Vanity Fair post Oscars party with Cory Michael Smith – whom she appeared alongside in a Broadway adaption of Breakfast at Tiffany's - at the beginning of March.  
> However, Kit - who plays brooding Jon Snow in the hit HBO series - is also said to be vying for her affections and even though an insider tells Star magazine she is falling for him, she is said to worry that their filming schedules are rarely in sync.  
> Emilia – who plays Daenerys Targaryen, also known as the Mother of Dragons - was adamant of her single status in an interview published just days after she stepped out with Cory to the Oscars party
> 
> \- DailyMail UK (Apr 2014)

_London, early Apr 2014_

**Kit**

He stirred, frowning when he realised he was on his back. He turned onto his left side but was unable to.

It was then he recognised the sweet familiar scent that filled his nostrils with every breath. Instinctively, he nuzzled his nose closer and took a deep whiff. The sweet scent of lavender made his heart swell and his toes curl. It woke his mind from sleep gently but all at once.

As sleep left his mind, Kit realised his left side was warm; much warmer than his right.

And occupied.

He furrowed his brows in puzzlement but he did not want to open his eyes. He dared not to. _What if my arms turned out empty? What if this is a dream? A wonderful dream._

Tentatively, he tightened his arm around the soft, warm and very much present weight beside him. The figure fitted into his side like a piece of puzzle. Attempting to shift his legs, he noticed a comfortable weight over and wrapped snugly around his left leg.

And all doubt was chased from Kit’s mind; both of the presence of a very real sleeping figure against his side and of the identity of said person.

Only one person slept with that specific scent about her, always. Only one person can fit so perfectly against him, in height especially. Only one person can wake him with a smile before he even opened his eyes, simply by being in his arms.

His eyes opened a crack and Kit glimpsed a soft shade of brown instead of a glaring red he has woken up to not too long ago. He felt his cheeks bunch almost uncomfortably tight as a grin split his face. Letting his eyes roll to the back of his head, Kit buried his face into the warm sweet scent, taking a deep breath greedily, like a man starved for oxygen. Trading his smile away, he pressed soft feather-like kisses into her hair. Unwittingly, his calloused fingers caressed the bare smooth skin beneath it.

Marvelling at the overwhelming but welcomed invasion of all his senses, setting his every nerve on his skin alight, Kit pried his eyes open and gazed down.

She was sprawled over him. Kit realised, to his amusement. There was simply no other way to describe it. Her petite body was wedged to his side and lying on her front so her weight was pressing firmly over his left ribs. Her arm was thrown over his torso almost possessively, her hand splayed over his right chest only because her head took up the span of his left. Her brunette hair tumbled in waves over his left shoulder. His left arm was curved around her frame. His face heated up when he realised his hand rested on and has been caressing the bare skin of the small of her back, where her camisole has ridden up.

His hand began to feel clammy but he did not want to remove it. Instead, he lifted his free right hand and gently placed it over hers, on his chest. For a moment, Kit wondered if his loud singing heart will wake her. Willing it to be silent, Kit peered down at her.

She had a lovely face. Few in this world dared to deny or argue the point; even now with her cheek pressed up against his chest. From his angle, Kit could see her defined brows, her still closed eyes, her little button nose. He angled his head away and earned a glimpse of her lips. She has always had lips which pouted in her sleep. In the beginning, Kit thought she was being grumpy in her sleep but with time, he was amused to realise that was just how her lips fell when her lively face rested.

Kit shook himself out of staring at said lips inwardly, only to glimpse and stare at the prominent bulge in his trousers. Her leg was draped over and around his, her thigh just missing his groin. Kit stared too long at the perfectly smooth cream coloured skin of her thigh until he saw and felt a desperate twitch in his trousers.

He groaned inwardly when he realised it’ll be the first thing she sees when she wakes if he doesn’t do anything about it. Kit gazed around them then, finally gaining some remote interest in their environment.

They were in her flat, in her bed. And they had evidently both fell asleep watching the Titanic. Kit stared amusedly at the television which was left on. As the events of the night before came to him, Kit was absolutely certain they did not fall asleep in this position. Emilia was lounging on her side of the bed and Kit was on the other side of the bed, an invisible but present line between the two of them. Emilia was now on his side and could be very well leaving her side entirely empty.

Kit suppressed a chuckle as he gazed over them to figure out how to extract himself from her, quite literal, clutches. He wracked his mind only to come up empty. He has only known her for turning in search of him in her sleep, never away. With her pressed up against him so firmly, Kit was at wit’s end.

But at the thought of the awkwardness that would ensue when she woke to the sight of his massive hard-on, Kit gingerly lifted her left arm from across his chest. He cringed as he reluctantly tried to squirm his way out from under her. He did so wish he could stay there for as long as humanly possible. When he, thankfully, made little to no progress with her leg still wounded around his firmly, Kit was beginning to give up and resign himself to that awkward moment when she were to wake-

Emilia stirred.

He froze. Partly horrified. Partly disappointed.

Kit watched her brows lift, a sure sign of her inching away from sleep. She nuzzled her cheek against his chest briefly and burrowed herself closer to him, inciting an adoring chuckle from Kit, before Emilia turned from him.

Kit blinked, surprised to say the least. He watched her turn onto her back before she turned away from him entirely and settled on her left.

_Have you gotten used to being without me, Milly?_

He quietly asked the back of her head which he very much wanted to kiss. He refrained, with great effort, from coming up against her back to spoon her; with nothing stopping him but the thought of his biggie pressed against her bottom rudely waking her. Kit glanced down, intending to check on the condition in his trousers, when he paused.

She was wearing a pair of yellow shorts that nicely shaped her bottom as she slept curled on her side. But for once, it wasn’t what caught his attention. There was a bright red patch between her legs just under her bottom. And it seemed to be spreading.

Kit paused, a million things running through his mind but the one at the forefront made him leap out of bed. He made a beeline to the loo, running a steaming bath. He rummaged into her cupboard in search of a bath bomb he knew she got as a gift from the wrap of season 4 of Thrones but hadn’t used. He found the set of it and picked the lavender one.

While waiting for the bath to fill, Kit quickly washed up at the sink. He was washing his face when he did a quick check of the temperature. Adjusting it a little with some cool water, Kit dropped the bath bomb in. He watched it turn a nice dark purple shade. Satisfied, he turned, wondering how he was going to wake her apart from what he used to do; peppering her lovely face with relentless kisses, which was hardly appropriate now.

But that problem was solved for him when he re-entered her room to see her sitting on the bed, wide awake. She was staring reproachfully at her, no doubt, stained sheets. Her lips were now in a genuine pout, her brows furrowed and her brunette hair in a tangled mess on her head. Refraining from sniggering and teasing her for always getting white sheets, Kit approached. Emilia looked up and Kit glimpsed panic flitter across her face before she reached for the blanket, her intention to conceal the stain from him evident.

“Good morning,” Kit watched her amusedly as he stopped beside the bed.

“Morning,” she muttered, reaching a hand up to her hair. She began chewing on her lip when she felt the tangles, her fingers frantically untangling her hair. Kit was just short of diving into bed, pulling her into his arms and kissing her till she was short of breath from giggling. She looked so adorable when self-conscious and shy, even if a part of him resented her shyness with him.

 _We are way past that point, Milly._ Kit thought as he slowly sank into the edge of the mattress. Emilia tensed just so, glancing at him. One hand was still clutching the blanket used to conceal the stain.

“Go and get a bath,” Kit said quietly.

Emilia blinked and Kit watched his words sink and gain meaning in her mind, still sluggish from sleep, “what?” Emilia managed.

He chuckled, “a bath,” he watched both brows raised and her eyes met his. The golden in her eyes reflected from the morning light that streamed into her bedroom was alarmingly beautiful, “go on,” Kit nodded in the direction of the loo. Emilia hesitated, glancing to the bed, and Kit knew why; her red stain would be in plain sight if she so much as rose from the bed. He decided to put an end to the awkwardness in the room and added, “and hand me your soiled clothes after you get out of them,”

Her head snapped up.

Kit teased, “come on, let’s not watch the bath water get cold,” he lunged forward and yanked her from the bed by her arm. She yelped but staggered forward and off the bed. She glanced back to the stained bed, her cheeks colouring as Kit audibly huffed in feigned annoyance and placed a hand on each shoulder and guided her firmly to her bath. He ignored the way her bare smooth shoulders fitted under his hands. When she came to the bath, her eyes widened.

“Kitten, did you just-“ she paused, gawking.

“Raid your cabinet, yes,” Kit grinned as Emilia huffed in feign annoyance, “saw that useful box of tampon,” he teased, ignoring the lump in his throat as he recalled the box of condoms right beside it, with its seal broken.

Emilia flushed, “fuck off,” she snapped.

He laughed, “sure thing,” he sang as he made his way out. The door closed heavily behind him, “oy!” he shouted, “don’t forget to hand me your clothes!” there was no reply and Kit waited just outside the door, wondering if she would. Eventually, the door opened a crack and Kit saw a handful of clothes emerge, albeit hesitantly. He grinned, collecting it, “thank you,” he teased, “Kit Harington, at your service, Ms Clarke. Enjoy your bath,”

The loud, genuine giggle he had heard from inside the loo then etched a smile on his face all while he removed the soiled sheets from the bed, fitted on the new, clean white sheets and soaked all of it with the clothes in pails of hot water.

“Be right back!” he hollered, grabbing her keys as he slipped out, typing furiously on his phone. 

 

**Emilia**

She had snuggled up to him.

Emilia admitted to herself with her cheeks burning as she stood naked beside the bath tub. She had woken earlier than Kit, as usual, to find her head propped up by Kit’s arm. Her lavender scented pillow was left somewhere behind her. Truth be told, she thought his arm preferable to her pillow, no matter how soft and nice smelling her pillow was. And his chest preferable to his arm. So in a sleepy haze that did nothing to dull her awareness, Emilia wiggled closer with an abandon that she could only muster half-awake or drunk.

She remembered planting her head firmly on his chest over his heart. The deep steady thumping of it was perfect to lull her back into deep sleep. She remembered encircling his leg with hers in a bid to get that much closer. She also remembered placing her hand, palm down, on his torso so she could lie to herself that he was still hers. In that moment where they were not actors who were constantly kept apart for most of the year and just a man and a woman in bed together, Emilia allowed herself this one concession; this lovely illusion that it was in her right to do this, that this was how her everyday could have been.

When she pried open her eyelids to glance up in semi-darkness, Kit was still sleeping soundly. _He was always a heavy sleeper_. She examined his lovely face as much as she can manage in the semi-darkness. His heart-shaped lips looked so desirable in that moment but she knew she would only kiss him if he was awake and craned his neck down to do so willingly. She wouldn’t want it any other way.

Her heart swelled when he turned his head while in said deep sleep towards her and she felt his warm even breaths tickle the top of her head. Smiling to herself, she had snuggled shamelessly closer, nuzzling her cheek to his muscled chest as she wished she was up against bare skin instead.

Almost immediately after she has settled, Kit stirred beside her. She felt his large warm hand settle on the small of her back, the weight of his arm resting over her; shrouding her in his protection. She liked his arms; they have a sort of strength in them and yet, they are always incredibly and almost unbelievably gentle. They made her feel safe. She felt nothing can hurt her when she is where she is.

When she woke again later in the morning, she was dismayed to find herself back on her own pillow and alone. For a moment, she thought that was merely a dream. The lingering warmth on her skin convinced her otherwise. That, and the scent of him on the other side of the bed. She has been smiling happily to herself when a dull ache in the small of her back and in her lower abdomen yanked her back to reality.

Dreading it, she had plucked herself from her bed to see the telling red stain on her perfectly white sheets. She had groaned but that feeling was nothing compared to how horrified she was when she heard Kit returning from wherever he was at. She had later found out he has already knew and was an absolutely dear about it. This was where Emilia now found herself, tentatively dipping a leg into the purple coloured bath with inviting steam rising from its surface.

The temperature was just right.

As she lowered her aching lower half into the tub, a moan escaped her lips. She had known when she woke that this was one of the month in which her uterus was bent on torturing her. This bath was Godsend for her. As was the man who ran the bath for her, having the thought to put in a bath bomb with her favourite scent to mask the smell of iron and the colour of it, and had presumably proceeded to put her soiled shorts into the wash after demanding for it.

She caressed her abdomen, hoping to relief some tension there. As her fingers brushed the crown of her mould, her fingers ventured lower and her mind ventured to the sight of the shapely bulge in his trousers as Kit had approached the bed. It was not as tented as she had seen before, not as hard, yet. As she massaged herself with her fingers, unbidden flashing images of his twitching, growing hardness, his steady arms around her as he propped himself over her, his hungry eager chocolate brown eyes, his full lips frozen in a moan came to her mind. She wet her lips, trying desperately to recall the taste of his lips, and his hard length, as she threw her head back against the porcelain of her tub with a thump. A strangled moan left her lips as she pushed herself onto her fingers, wishing they were his.

“ _Kitten,_ ” a whimper escaped her. She missed the feel of him inside her; how he’d fit in her when buried fully, how his tip would kiss the sweet spot in the back of her with each firm thrust. She missed the way he would push himself gently but steadily into her, the way he would stretch her just enough to fill her so sweetly that her toes would curl and her legs would tremble, the way he would swelled unbelievably as his pace grew clumsy, the way he would groaned so deeply and loudly as he buried himself fully, as deep as he would go, and spilled all of himself into her. Her low moans echoed off the walls of her bathroom as her body trembled with an intensity it has not felt in a while.

As her body sagged bonelessly against the tub, she wished she was in his embrace instead where he’d kiss her and whisper sweet nothings while she was most vulnerable and her heart was bursting with love, for him. A vivid memory of the feel of their mixed moisture seeping past his softening length and trailing down to her bottom, and the velvet sound of his sigh against her lips as he licked her, came to her.

A soft wistful sigh escaped her and she opened an eye lazily to see the surface of her dark purple bath water. Ripples was breaking the otherwise perfectly still surface as her hand slackened under the water. Not entirely satiated but satisfied, she brought her legs together and rubbed her thighs against the other as the waves of pleasure ebbed away.

Previously plump thighs that could relief some tightness in her groin was currently unable to. They have shrunk so that her knees grinded together before her thighs could; a result of her treatment. She was slowly but surely regaining some weight and she was thankful for her recovering body. She reached between her legs to caress herself, searching for the sensation of his tongue on her when a sudden cramp clenched her lower abdomen viciously. She sucked in a breath against the ache.

_Fuck._

She groaned softly as the cramp settled, showing no signs of leaving anytime soon.

_Great. It is going to be a good fucking day._

Emilia soaked up as much of the warmth as the bath has to offer before she drained the tub and washed off. It wasn’t until she was clean till she realise that she did not have any clothes whatsoever to put on. Cursing, she reached for her towel and dried herself. Afterwards, she slipped a tampon into place, cursing the cramps that seized her as she flexed her abdomen to bend over. Securing the towel around her middle, she opened the door a crack to see there was no one.

Emilia did not use to care about nudity, especially not with Kit when they were either together or simply friends. They were so much more now; it couldn’t get more complicated and so, slightly awkward in these situations. But she has neither cared for him any less nor wanted him any less. Her face burned as she realised she was unable to deny a tinge of eagerness for Kit to see her like this, completely bare before him. She _wanted_ to see the hungry look in his eyes that he always had when he saw her naked. She _wanted_ to hear the groan leaving his lips as he approaches. She _wanted_ to feel him grab her to press her against him possessively. She _wanted_ him to kiss her and make love to her with an abandon.

Then she briefly wondered if she was being naïve that the look he would give her and the way he would treat her would not change. So many other things have changed after all. _Why would he still want me?_

Emilia glanced to her short frame in the mirror where her hips were always too wide and made her look almost stunted. Her stomach was also looking exceptionally bloated rather than flat and toned. She had been advised against intensive exercise after the aneurysm and have not worked up the courage to start exercising again. A part of Emilia’s mind knew her period starting probably played a part in her bloatedness but she couldn’t help but feel bitter and envy slim, tall women who never have to worry about looking bloated around their period. _Slim, tall, red heads whom he has been with..._

Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth, she turned from the mirror, disgusted at what she saw. She was about to remove her towel when she glanced glumly over her soiled bed, dreading having to change it later, to see it was already made. The sheets were changed as well.

Emilia stared, her jaw slackening.

_That lovely man._

With the cramps in her abdomen creeping to her lower back and her head beginning to pound, she felt her unattractive self could have broken down and sobbed at how sweet he was.

Sniffing, she peeled away her towel and tossed it into the basket in the corner of the bedroom. She turned to the wardrobe, pulling out a jumper and a pair of black tights. As she orientated her jumper, Emilia felt an unnerving feeling that she is being watched.

She turned to see Kit standing unexpectedly at the door, a hand on the doorknob. He was staring straight at her. His eyes unblinking. His heart shaped lips were parted, his lower jaw slackened. It was obvious he was no longer breathing through his nose but through his mouth.

She had no idea how long he has been standing there. “Kit!” her face felt incredibly hot and her arms flew across her bare breasts.  

He startled. His chocolate eyes which were darker than usual, blinked and he frantically turned his back to her. His large hands came up and covered his face, “I-I’m sorry I thought you have dresssed,” she heard him mutter as he quickly shuffled back out of the room.

The disappointment she felt then was heart-wrenching; that and the feeling of being undesirable and unwanted. She could cry, especially looking down at her own unattractively bloated nude body. Her face was burning with the effort not to cry as she quickly yanked on her jumper and shorts. She could not stop thinking of the sight of his retreating back as she brushed and blew her damp hair dry.

It took her another moment to work up the courage to slip out of her bedroom. When she finally did, she looked to the sofa to see that Kit wasn’t there. Puzzled, she heard some sounds in the yard. She turned the corner to see he was crouched over. She approached, wondering what he was doing. Emilia opened the small door to the yard quietly, only to shiver as she felt a breeze of cold wind.

Kit then rose, his back to her and he seemed to not have realised her entrance. It was then that she glimpsed him squeezing dry an article that looked suspiciously like her shorts. Her bloodied shorts. Emilia felt her cheeks heat up. She watched him toss his long curly hair from his face as he threw her clothes into the wash. _Yep, my fucking stained shorts._

With her face burning with embarrassment, Emilia wanted to hide. She was about to turn away before he realised she was there when Kit spoke, “Breakfast in bed or on the sofa?”

She turned back to see that he still has his back to her. He was scrubbing at her bedsheet. Guilt engulfed her and Emilia stepped forward, muttering, “I got that-“ she reached for the laundry but Kit leaned out of her reach, nudging her arm away with his elbow.

“Nuh uh,” Kit shook his head, “in bed or on the sofa?” he repeated, turning to her.

“Um,” Emilia glanced to him. Kit was watching her for her choice attentively. His raven curly locks looked a little windswept but it did nothing to mar the ridiculous beauty of it. The urge to card her fingers through it and massage his scalp to relieve whatever tension lay there was overwhelming. The look in his eyes was warm and soft as he waited expectantly. His lovely lips were curved into a small smile. The tip of his nose was red. He sniffed noisily.

Her stomach sank with worry at the thought that he has gone and caught himself a cold by squatting in her yard, doing her laundry. Emilia approached then, lifting her hands to his face. He looked confused but did not lean away from her impending touch. That pleased her. Smiling, she brought her hands to his face. His face was cold, as she had thought. Kit was still as she placed her warm hand over his reddened, frozen nose. His stunned expression slowly melted away into a smile, “thanks,” he murmured thickly, his nasal voice telling of the mild cold he has caught.

She forced a smile in return but bit her lips in guilt at the possibility that he has fallen ill for her sake, “put down the laundry,” she glanced down softly at the wet sheets in his hands, “we’re going inside,”

“’M almost done,” he replied. His brown eyes twinkled, “don’t worry,” his forehead crinkled and he smiled a smile in an attempt to coax one from her. She pursed her lips. His face was freezing and his poor nose was red and watery from all the cold air he breathed in. She sighed and her lips parted, about to force him to drop the laundry this instant when Kit grinned. She paused, her breath stolen at the sight of his joy.

Kit then nuzzled his nose into her hand. _Cheeky wanker._

An unwitting smile graced her lips.

If possible, his grin widened before he pulled from her hands abruptly. Kit quickly tossed the remaining laundry from the pail, where the stains were soaked out, into the washing machine. Emilia shoved him towards the sink as she quickly set it to wash the laundry. As the washing machine started up, Kit dried his hands and opened the door. Holding it open with one hand, he gestured for her with the other. With a hand on her back, he ushered her into the flat before himself.

When he shut the small door behind him, Emilia turned to him, about to thank him, “Kitten-“

“So,” Kit interrupted, rubbing his hands warm, “breakfast in bed or-“

She met his eye with a quiet look as she took his hands in hers, not allowing herself to overthink it and hesitate. _Why are you so good and so kind, Kitten?_ Like his face, his hands were freezing. Her eyes darted down to his large hands as she warmed them as much as she could. She has always loved his hands; they were large, meaty and had callouses under his joints. They reminded her of hands which _did_ rather than remained idle. She could barely cover one of his hands with both of hers. His nails were more purple than usual and she was just short of bringing his hand to her face to warm them up, “thank you,” she whispered, staring at his hands and refusing to meet his eyes as she convinced herself that she was merely making up for his efforts and thanking him. _Definitely not because I miss holding his hand and feeling him hold mine..._

Kit was quiet and when she finally decided to meet his eye, he was grinning, “no problem, Clarke,” he replied softly, “now, tell me where the fuck do you want your breakfast please,”

* * *

She groaned and writhed dramatically. If she was being completely honest with herself, she was being a baby about this. Admittedly, she knew if Kit wasn’t present and spoiling her so thoroughly, she’d probably just sulk quietly in bed, cursing her fate to have been born a woman. But being the attention addict that she was, she was enjoying the care showered upon her, that was amplified with every groan or whimper she emitted. She wasn’t blind and could see how concerned Kit was; how he glanced anxiously to her when she whimpered or so much as cringed, how his eyes would watch her, his body tensed and poise to alleviate any discomfort she might have.

Despite initially playing up the cramps and whining that she wasn’t hungry, Emilia has devoured an entire serving of the Fry-Up in bed under the watchful eye of one determined Kit Harington. Having completed her breakfast and been praised teasingly by Kit, Emilia had turned and snuggled back into bed as Kit packed the rubbish and brought it out. _Of course I couldn’t resist eating it. Kit even got the bread in the Fry-Up right; not fried._

She could hear him bustling about her flat and for a moment, Emilia let her eyes slip shut in bliss; allowing this extremely mundane and domestic moment settle in her chest and make her heart swell with warmth. She already knew he would be an amazing boyfriend. She smiled to herself and nuzzled her cheek against the soft clean sheets that Kit has changed for her.

Then the door to her bedroom opened and she could hear his footsteps nearing the bed. She felt the other side of the bed sink and she peered over her shoulder curiously. Kit was sat behind her, cross-legged. He met her gaze before hesitantly looking down into his lap and Emilia leaned up to follow his gaze.

In his lap were an assortment of items. Two hot water bags, a cup of hot tea ( _chamomile by the smell of it_ ), a set of essential oil and a paper bag.

Stifling a giggle, Emilia managed to croak out, “what _are_ these, Kitten?”

Kit flushed a little before he replied, overly defensive, “they will help! With period cramps I reckoned…” his voice got softer towards the end, telling of his uncertainty in an area which was evidently so foreign to him. And Emilia did not blame him; he has no sisters to observe and learn from.

“How did you know all this?” Emilia giggled, reaching to poke a hot water bag to find it hot to the touch, “please don’t tell me you have gone and called your mum to ask,” she whimpered.

Kit rolled his eyes, “I googled it,” he replied flatly. She laughed, only to whimper when her abdomen cramped up badly. She crossed her arms over her abdomen and curled into herself on the bed, “ _Clarke…_ ” she could’ve sworn she heard Kit whisper painfully before she felt him shove a hot, almost scalding, water bag into her arms. She hugged it to her abdomen. The heat was heaven.

She felt her muscles begin to relax under the hot water bag and was letting out a relieved sigh when she felt something hot settle at her bottom. Emilia startled and turned.

Kit was watching her closely and instantly froze when she turned to him, “what are you doing?” she demanded, thoroughly amused. She has never seen Kit as uncertain as he was now. He looked like a kid who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Glancing down, she saw that Kit has placed the other hot water bag on her behind; where, because she was curled up, the water bag rested right over her… _lady bits_.

She blushed, as did Kit while he sheepishly removed it, “the website said to get two… I thought you would need one where- where the blood leaves…” Emilia paused, staring at him. That was when she laughed so hard her cramps returned. Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes as Kit protested, unamused, “I mean it must hurt _down there_ if you’re bleeding from it…”

She howled with renewed laughter while Kit watched her resentfully. His brows were furrowed too deep but his eyes lit up. The edges of his lips were curved up and for a moment, Emilia felt an impulse to kiss him on the corner of his lips, “it-it’s for my back!” she managed to choke out through her giggles.

Kit flushed furiously before he placed it on the curve of her back, “here?” he asked tentatively. Emilia watched him for a moment, wondering if all of this meant anything more to him than him being his kind self. _Kitten… do you love me?_

Another cramp seized her and with great effort, she sat up. Kit’s eyes widened just a fraction and he followed her with the hot water bag pressed to her back. She settled against the pillows, adjusting one water bag at the small of her back and one over her womb. Kit pulled the duvet over her. She closed her eyes, sighed and relaxed into the pillows as the cramps alleviated drastically.

Cracking an eyelid open, she noticed Kit was watching her, “good?” he asked. She nodded, managing a smile and Kit smiled.

“What else have you got there?” Emilia mumbled, her eyes slipping back shut as she melted against the pillows.

“Um, tea,” Kit replied. There was a pause and she glimpsed Kit blowing into the cup of tea to cool it a little. Then she felt the lip of the cup against her lower lips. Ducking her head, she took a sip of the warm tea. The warm fragrant liquid trickled down her throat, warming a trail down her throat and settled in her stomach nicely.

Hot tea in bed with her stomach full and her cramps managed as best as possible, Emilia thought she was in absolute heaven. She moaned happily, “marry me,”

Emilia froze when she realised what she has blurted. Prying her eyes open, Kit was staring at her. She flustered, racking her brains to salvage the situation but Kit beat her to it. He snorted, “and be a man-slave for the rest if my life?” he smirked, “I’m not that desperate,”

It stung. She wouldn’t lie. Emilia had felt his jibe straight in her chest. The warmth she previously felt drained from her. Schooling her expression, she rolled her eyes, “yet,” she snapped. Unable to muster anymore of that strong front, Emilia closed her eyes against it; hiding behind the pain of her period cramps.

A comfortable silence blanketed them then. Gently, she took the cup from Kit, cradling it between her hands as she took sips from it, “what’s in the paper bag? More miracles?” she asked.

Kit grinned a boyish grin, digging into it and retrieving two huge bars of chocolate, “no, just something for the soul,” as he ripped into it eagerly, Emilia thought he looked glorious. The twinkle in his dark brown eyes was unrivalled even by the brightest star, his beautiful face was split into a wide grin, making his cheeks bunch up and flush and the edges of his eyes crinkle so perfectly.

He did always look so beautiful when he was so simply happy, like he was now. She couldn’t say she didn’t miss seeing this when in reality, she did; every single day she has had to live without this.

Fighting a smile of her own, Emilia chewed her lips absently as she watched Kit carefully break off a dark smooth square of the large chocolate bar. _He’d be so happy if he tasted it._ She mused. Kit glanced to her then. A moment. Then Emilia felt the square at her lip. She blinked, stunned.

“Go on, Clarke. I won’t poison you,” Kit droned impatiently, pushing the chocolate against her lips, insistent. She parted her lips and Kit slipped it in before breaking another square for himself, “the body would be too much of a hassle to hide,” she heard him murmur, the edges of his lips in a smirk. Emilia scowled but it didn’t last too long as the dark chocolate square melted on her tongue, teasing her taste buds with a bitterness that complemented the sweetened hot tea perfectly.

As Kit lounged back onto the other side of the bed, scrolling through the channels on her tele while feeding her and himself the chocolate, Emilia glanced to her side at him. There was a ridiculously serious expression on his face as he deliberated over the show to dip into. It was almost comical. Emilia stifled a laugh as she watched this wonderful man. Her heart, so filled with adoration for him, was on the verge of bursting.

In between all the laughter and pampering, Emilia has almost forgotten she was experiencing the periodically worst moment of her month.

_You’re so good for me, Kitten; it’s almost sickening._

 

**Kit**

He was breaking out in cold sweat, unbearably nervous beside one of his best mates. She was oblivious, watching the tele and occasionally giggling at a joke. Kit would then feign a chuckle so she wouldn’t get curious what was on his mind, which was not even close to what was on the tele. He didn’t think he could lie to her if she asked him directly for he didn’t want to. He very much wanted to tell her what he was thinking but he didn’t dare to.

Kit glanced down his side of the bed, at the bouquet of flowers lying on the floor. Kit had cradled everything into the bedroom after he threw out the trash remains of their breakfast. But when he saw her stir, aware of his presence, he got cold feet and practically dropped the bouquet to hide it from her.

He had left the flat initially to grab some things to make her feel better while on her period. But he got carried away, buying chocolate that he thought she’d like, getting the Fry-Up that he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist even if she experienced a turn in her appetite; as predicted by that website about periods and how to make it better. Kit had earned himself a raised brow from the lady behind the counter when he requested for the bread to not be fried but when he saw Emilia’s eyes light up at the sight of her idea of a perfect breakfast, it was all worth it.

Then Kit remembered a promise he made to himself, last year in August. After she had told him exactly what happened to her in April in New York.

_She was sobbing. Kit was utterly stunned, clueless. It was then she told him everything._

_She told him how she felt when she saw the article by The Post about the nudity in the play and the critics’ comments about her ‘lacklustre performance’. She told him how she felt when men recognised her in the streets and hooted at her, shouting rude and lecherous comments. She told him how she felt when some of these men were braver and more forward. She told him how she felt when she was badgered by some of them in a bar. She told him how she felt when one man defended her from a group of them only to drink her so drunk she could barely walk straight. She told him how she felt when that same man brought her back to the hotel and touched her, kissed her, despite her objections. She told him how she felt when she woke up in the middle of the night to find herself alone, naked and her body aching in a telling manner that left no question as to what has happened. She told him how she felt when she had dreamt of what happened that night but woke up having no idea if that was the truth of what happened or something her mind dreamt to fill in the gaps. She told him how she felt when she had no one to tell, not wanting to worry her family. She told him how she felt when she was broken, unwanted and alone._

_Kit knew only then how much absolute trust she has in him as she sank into his arms, crying into his chest before passing out. He had brought her back to her hotel and settled her into bed. All the while, she was dead to the world apart from the incoherent murmurs every once in a while. Kit knew she probably wouldn’t remember she told him this the next morning but he would remember. And it would have to be enough._

_As he brushed her hair from her face the millionth time, watching every twitch in her brow and every murmur of her lips, Kit realised no one could love her and protect her like he could. So he whispered his promise that he would._

_And he knew he couldn’t do that while he was with another. So Kit stopped it, ending it with a short phone call across the globe, to Rose. He had returned to her side after that, watching her until she stirred awake only noon the next day. But Kit couldn’t bring himself to tell her how he felt, what he promised her and himself when he saw how she giggle off the love he showered her with. She was behaving like the perfect best mate she promised she would be and Kit couldn’t bear it if she were to say no to him._

_So Kit decided to shower her with love, care and concern until she could feel it. He decided to leave the conversation to another time._

As he browsed the shops for things he thought Emilia would need while on her period, he stumbled upon a florist and felt it was time to follow through fully on that promise. He had bought a bouquet he thinks Emilia would love, deliberating more than he usually would and feeling confident when he purchased it. But when he arrived back to the flat, the bouquet looked too small, the things he bought for her too insignificant and the breakfast too greasy and unhealthy for her liking.

His worry immediately became ridiculous when Emilia came into the picture. She was utterly chuffed and a dear about everything. She had looked so touched he was doing her laundry that she had almost teared. And there was a funny look in her eyes every time Kit caught her gazing at him. As there was now.

“Lie down,” Kit nodded to the bed as he rubbed his palms together to warm the oil between them.

Emilia’s hot water bags have cooled and while they warmed up, Emilia had asked him what the oils were for. Kit explained to her that they were good for her to smell but seeing as her diffuser has recently broke down, Emilia immediately begged him into massaging it into her sore back, enthusiastically telling him he could mix it in with the almond oils she has. Kit had a niggling feeling she was exaggerating her pain a little to bully just a little more attention, love and concern from him. But all that did was amuse him and he adored her even more for her current neediness, of him.

He watched her comply, shifting onto her hands and knees. A huge lump formed in his throat as he glimpsed her perfectly rounded breasts, weighing onto the front of her jumper. He remembered vividly how they fitted into each of his palm. He swallowed. She lay down on her front before pulling up her jumper to reveal the smooth, perfectly unmarred alabaster skin on her back.

“Mmmm,” Emilia took a hesitant whiff, sounding out approvingly, “lavender?” she took a deep breath.

“Yes,” he croaked as he took in the sight of her bare skin. He gently placed his warm hands on her back and what she was about to say was instantly swallowed by a deep moan. It was so guttural, Kit’s face burned and blood rushed south. He chuckled nervously, “good?” his hands hesitantly rubbed the small of her back. He was extremely distracted with how soft and smooth her skin felt against his palms.

“Fuck yeah,” was her reply. Silence fell as Kit massaged her back methodically and Emilia emitted soft approving sounds one too many times. _She can be very vocal when she gets carried away._ Kit internally cursed himself for that unnecessary thought and the unwelcomed memories it brought with it, “you know what will really help the cramps?” Emilia asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“What?” he asked, grateful for the distraction but a little too breathlessly. Thankfully, Emilia was too breathless herself to notice.

“An orgasm,”

Kit didn’t think it was possible to get so hard so quickly.

A tentative giggle, “google didn’t point that out?” she teased him. Thankfully, her face was buried into her pillow, her eyes turned away from him and his solid length which tented his trousers spectacularly.

“No,” he croaked.

She giggled but it was quickly swallowed by another moan when Kit’s hands, apparently, massaged out a particularly sore spot. She was quiet then but for soft moans that reduced to quiet, barely audible sighs as he worked.

Kit gazed to the back of her head, resisting an urge to kiss her brunette hair and anywhere else she would want him to. There were a lot of things he felt uncertain about with Emilia today, but he was certain he could make her moan and make her body writhe beneath his in the sweetest way possible. He could genuinely make her feel better. He could love her.

_It is time. Even if you say no to me, I could never leave you alone; I would never. I would still be here, I would still take care of you._

He reluctantly removed his hands from her back. Wiping it hurriedly on a towel, Kit bent over the edge of the bed and grabbed the bouquet. Eager to meet her would-be curious gaze as he straightened, Kit took a breath to prepare himself for what he must say. But Emilia was unmoving.

He frowned. Getting on his hands and knees and crawling over her prone form to peer at her face, Kit was half-annoyed and half-dismayed to see that she was asleep. He swallowed a groan. _You always ruin a moment. Where the fuck did you get a knack for that anyway?_

It took another moment of gazing at her sleeping face for his dismay and annoyance to turn into amusement. And another moment for it to turn into absolute adoration.  

With his hands and knees pressed into the bed and propping him over her, Kit lowered himself just enough to peck her on her cheek firmly. He let his lips linger on her warm skin as he took a much needed breath of her scent, “ _You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone again. I’m here for you. I will always be here_ ,” he whispered into her ear.

As he cleaned up the oil and placed the warmed-up water bag on her back, Kit glanced at her, suddenly reminded of how she had moan as she sipped the tea he had prepared for her. He had took the time to make sure it was at the sweetness at which she always took her tea. _Marry me._ She had said. A joke. 

But for once, Kit did not catch the joke that instant. Instead, he had thought solemnly: _Yes,_ _be mine, Milly. And I’ll be yours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little lighter chapter for you poor folks after the last chapter! 
> 
> A short note regarding the plot: I know some of you might be frustrated with the ending but that was left intentionally (the next chapter won't pick up exactly where this left off but with a time jump) as it is. In this chapter, it is obvious they both love each other and want each other very much but I think it is important to show that at this point of their relationship, Kit just wants her to be alright and everything else is secondary, after her physical and emotional well-being. And for Emilia, she wants the same for Kit.  
> And I think how they are loving each other now - loving but not having to own the other, is actually the peak of how much you can love another person; not having to receive but quietly giving. 
> 
> Well, it has been a theme of their relationship from the start of the Second Verse and I just wanted to put that out there for the frustrated readers who don't get the point of all this (that, and the fact that Kit and Emilia are not together for this point of their lives.) 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think of this chapter :) Your comments are always welcomed!


	14. Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Where are you going?” Rose frowned. 
> 
> “Cort Theatre,” Kit replied. 
> 
> “Milly,” Kit heard himself whisper, “something is wrong with her,” he told her thickly. Rose raised a brow in doubt, “I just know it. Come with me,” Kit said, “she’s your best friend,” in a final plea, Kit reminded her. 
> 
> Rose blinked slowly, once. When she opened her eyes, there was a sort of clarity in her eyes, as if she was finally seeing something for the first time. Rose replied quietly then, “she’s your best friend too,” Kit paused, unsure what she was getting at and honestly, too on edge to comprehend, “is she?” Rose asked, almost demanded, “just a best friend?” 
> 
> \- Second Verse, Chapter 12
> 
> They split up last year but Kit Harington and Rose Leslie have managed to stay friends – a useful feat considering the fact they still work together on Game Of Thrones.  
> However the pair looked more than just cordial as they enjoyed lunch in Los Angeles with their co-star Emilia Clarke on Sunday.  
> At one point, something Kit said had the two actresses in stitches and they couldn’t stop giggling over a meal at Café Gratitude.  
> \- DailyMail (Feb 2014)

_August 2014_

**Kit**

“Who are you texting?”

Kit’s thumbs paused over the bright screen of his phone. He stared down at the message.

_WRAPPED! Yesterday. Finally._

He was in the midst of typing a reply to her when he was asked. It was then Kit felt the smile across his face as he texted. He wiped the smile from his face and hastily finished the reply he was typing: _Congratulations, Sarah Conner. Home yet?_ He sent it before he tore his gaze from his phone to look up.

Rose stood behind the counter. In her hands, she held an opened bottle of wine and two wineglasses. Her fiery hair was put up in an easy bun. Her lips were pressed together as she waited for his reply. Kit could see from the hard look in her eyes that she was less than pleased. He felt a twinge with guilt. Kit felt his lips part, about to reply her but his phone vibrated in his hand and Kit automatically looked down. She had replied.

_Yes. And it’s CONNOR._

He could hear the way she would have said it if she was right in front of him. He could see the way her golden blue eyes would flash, challenging him to argue against her. The smile that came to his lips then was as natural as breathing was. The chair opposite him was pulled out and Rose sank into it. Kit selected and sent a heart hastily before putting his phone away. He didn’t want to ignore her but was extremely aware of his terrible table manners as Rose settled opposite him for dinner.

Filming for Season 5 of Thrones was starting very soon and Kit felt an excitement, both for what was installed for him to film, as detailed in the script, and for their impending reunion. Kit has not seen her for almost 4 full months. Emilia has been thrown into filming her new Terminator movie in New Orleans after the last time they spent some quality time together at her flat. She barely had time to text much less meet him but from the little time she found to reply his texts and sometimes, his calls, Kit knew she was knackered. This movie was the most physically demanding role she has had thus far and Kit constantly teased her about finally getting shape. Truthfully, he worried for her and used these teasing to keep tabs on her through texts.

When Rose heard that filming for Season 5 of Thrones was starting very soon, she had flown to London to meet with him for dinner. She had even accommodated his ‘need to study the script before filming began’ and offered to get dinner and eat it at his place. Kit was neither ungrateful nor stupid. He could see how wonderful Rose was to him; how much she cared for him. Kit himself thought he has destroyed this relationship, friendship included, when he abandoned her at JFK airport rather rudely.

When he had received her phone call while struggling to stem his tears after leaving the Medical Centre, Kit had expected to be at the receiving end of scolding and yelling and nothing short of a curt break of this dating affair. But that had not been the case. Rose has apologised for how she was and asked how things were. When Kit told her what had happened to Emilia, Rose was audibly horrified, insisting to rush over immediately. He could only stop her when he assured her that Emilia was fine ( _fine enough to snog_ ) and that he was going to rush off to continuing filming his new movie in Toronto. He was already late considering the delay.

Rose had informed him then that she will book him on the next soonest flight to Toronto and all but commanded him to get his ‘cute bottom’ over to the airport. It could have been the relief that he was not going to hold up the entire cast and crew of Pompeii or it could have been feeling he was still cared for by another; when it wasn’t a moment ago that he had watched the person he cared for most in this world, besides his family, turn to another man. He had never felt emptier or more alone. Kit had almost burst into tears then and there over the phone with Rose.

Gazing over the spread Rose had prepared for him at his flat, Kit met her bright blue eyes over the table for a moment too long, “thank you, Rose,” he said, his voice thick with gratitude and he truly was grateful; not just for this meal but for her, a great friend whom he was incredibly comfortable with. The smile that graced her lips was beautiful and Kit knew she understood that he meant it for more than the meal.

“It is thanks enough that you can feel it,” Rose replied softly. Kit paused, momentarily confused. He had expected her to brush it off and for them to begin eating. He jumped when he felt her hand on his. Rose has always been skinny, owing to her high metabolism and her insistence to diet once in a while, even if the purpose of it escapes Kit. Turning his hand over so he held hers, Kit ran his thumb over the freckles on the back of her hand before trailing his way to her perfectly manicured nails. Her fingers were long and slender, like her frame. There wasn’t a softness in her hand that came with more weight. Kit hadn’t realise he was looking for it until he felt it was missing. He paused, ready to let her go when Rose laced her fingers with his.

He watched her slim fingers strain to thread between his thick meaty fingers. As their hands settled and Rose squeezed his hand meaningfully, Kit felt a discomfort he could neither understand nor explain. He felt her much smaller palm and slim fingers were struggling to fit against his large palm and proportionately, comparatively, stubby fingers. He adjusted their hands, trying to loosen the grip so they could fit more comfortably but her fingers tightened over his, uncompromising.

He looked up and met her eyes once more. Rose had eyes the colour of the ocean. Her beauty belonged in a place where the sun was high above and there was beautiful clear blue sea for miles around them. Sometimes, looking at her, Kit wanted to bring her to such a place; just the two of them so he could really get to know her kind heart. That, and the fact that Kit has always wanted to go to warmer places where he can tan his incredibly pale skin.

But Rose was extremely sensitive to the sun; her skin promising to burn in a matter of minutes, leaving more freckles in their wake. Rose has therefore developed a caution for the sun; putting sunblock even if they were merely going for a brunch down the street.

“What are you thinking of?” Rose asked.

Kit chuckled, shaking his head, “nothing,” he gently but firmly extracted his hand from hers and reached for the cutleries. He heard his phone buzz, indicative of an incoming message and he glanced over but ignored it. _She has texted that she’s fine now, still cheeky. Whoever it is can surely wait until after my dinner with Rose-_

“It’s Emilia, isn’t it?” Rose cut in abruptly.

Kit almost dropped his fork at the sudden mention of her, “what?” he blurted, meeting her eye to see that hard look again. Rose never would say it when she is upset with him. Instead, she would usually hide it behind curt replies and that hard look in her eyes that made them look like sapphires; beautiful but cold. Kit did not detect that at first but he quickly learned.

“You were texting her and you are thinking of her,” Rose said thickly, obviously wounded, “even with me,” her voice wavered and broke, “no matter what I do, you’re thinking of her,”

Kit’s throat constricted when he glimpsed tears begin to fill her beautiful, now pain-filled eyes, “what? No!” he balked at the accusation, hating to see her tears, “I-I mean I was texting her, she has just finished filming and has arrived home but I wasn’t thinking-“

“You fancy her, a lot, don’t you?” Rose cut in.

Silence fell upon the room.

“Rose…” Kit sighed, pleading with her to drop it. He knew the only answer he would, and could, give was not one she wanted to hear. And the last thing he wanted was to hurt their beautiful friendship. He has seen Emilia with Rose and witnessed for himself how close they both were. Kit could see Emilia adores Rose and values this friendship greatly. He didn’t know what went on during comic con but supposed Emilia took to Rose as he did. Emilia told and would tell things to Rose she wouldn’t ordinarily tell others. Emilia trusted Rose like Kit has never seen her trust another person they have met in this industry. He took a breath, readying himself to admit that to Rose as gently as he possibly can, “I-“

Rose said quickly, “she doesn’t feel the same way,” Kit froze. Not because of what Rose has said but because of the sureness in her eyes and voice as she told him, “you’re just a best friend to her…” her voice trailed off as she took in the look on his face, her resoluteness faltering. That was when Kit realised his lower lip was trembling and he looked how he felt; absolutely terrified.

“Did she tell you that?” he whispered, his eyes falling to settle on the table top. He felt no longer able to meet the confidence of her words in her gaze. His fingers felt cold so Kit clasped them together, trying to ignore the tremors in his hands.

“Kit…” he was mildly aware of Rose standing from her chair, rounding the table to stand before him, “she’s been dating other men… why would she do that if she fancies you?” suddenly, Kit could see the way she happily kissed Seth in public, her lips lingering on his. She has always hesitated with Kit. Kit could see how tenderly she has kissed Cory in the Medical Centre, “she dated Seth, Cory and now Jai-“

“What?” he croaked. _Was she with him when she texted me to tell me she has wrapped filming? No wonder she kept banging on about him all the time…_ That realisation went straight to his chest. _I thought he was just a good mate of hers… I must be completely daft…_

He felt Rose’s warm hand on his cheek, coaxing him to look up but he pulled himself from her hand, “I know it is hard for you to hear this but you have to … it’ll only hurt worse the longer it drags on,”

“Shut up,” Kit murmured, his mind racing. _She told me she loved me… she said it herself, even in her sleep…_

 _Kitten… I love you…_ Kit could still hear her exact words, her tone, her voice, her sleeping visage as she muttered it. But that memory was quickly marred by the fact that since that day, she has never said it. Not merely that but Kit realised he could no longer recall a moment after that in which she even seemed like she remotely wanted his touch. The times in which they have been together after that, when she has yet to completely lose her mind in the throes of passion, she has always rejected his acts of love; any caresses, cuddling or soft kisses. She would roll away the moment the deed was done and both of them got the pleasure they seek for themselves. She made sure they were merely fucking with an abandon that went against every fibre of Kit’s being that only wanted to love her and make love to her.

Kit supposed a part of him has always suspected this but was unable to accept it, for his mind went on to search for even the slightest signs that she loved him, still. His heart skipped a beat when her eyes lingered on him a moment longer than necessary, his skin tingled whenever her skin brushed his a little too frequently to be coincidental, his body sang when she came to him for a fuck and presumably no one else. He would convince himself that she reacted to his presence and that could only mean she loved him, still. Could he have wanted her love so much he was seeing signs of it that weren’t there?

 _When did she stop?_ Tears welled up in his eyes and Kit wanted nothing more than to have her in front of him now so he could ask her, so he could kiss her, so he could tell her he still loved her, so he could beg her to take him back.

 ** _How_** _did she stop?_ Kit pressed his lips together and fought against the rising lump in his throat and the tears that threatened to fall.

“That day in LA…you looked at her so lovingly, such a dear to her and always trying to make her laugh,” Rose said softly, her hands coming to cup his cheeks gently, guiding him to look at her, “I’d have to be blind not to see how you feel for her,” her velvet voice cracked and Kit could see his pain reflected in her eyes. Rose hurt for him. _She cares._ “And her, so fucking oblivious to you,” Kit watched a tear escape her eye, mirroring his own as it rolled down her cheek, “it hurts to watch you, like this-“

“It’s not like that. Mil- she doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve,” Kit sniffed, forcing a chuckle, “you wouldn’t be able to see-“

“I love you,” Rose said firmly. Kit was stunned. Her watery eyes were searching his shocked face, “I have loved you… for a while,” her eyes darted down and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment, “and I told her,” she reached for his hands. Forcing them to unclasp, as she always did, Rose held his hand with both of hers. Bringing it to her face, she nuzzled her cheek to his knuckles, “you know what she said?” Kit didn’t dare to ask, “she told me to go for it. She encouraged me to make you see how I feel for you. She wanted us to be together…”

His body felt cold and unlike his own. He lost the sensation in his hand where Rose was nuzzled against him and in the rest of his body. Emilia has always teased him about Rose but it was always over text messages. She did so a few times in person but Kit thought he always saw a twitch in her eyebrow or the pull on the edge of her lips before she turned away. These little signs allowed Kit to brush away the sting of the woman he loved pushing him to another. These signs told him that she didn’t truly mean what she was saying and she was probably just taking the piss out of him. These little signs were just like the signs Kit thought he saw that told him Emilia still loved him. _I saw what I wanted to see. I was seeing myself all along, telling myself she loves me still._

Kit stood from the chair quickly and practically ran to his room. He didn’t know where Rose was as he slammed the door and locked it. It was pitch-black and Kit stumbled around the darkness. His shin flared when he knocked into something hard but there were already tears in his eyes. He staggered to the ground at the foot of his bed and buried his face into his arms. His head was spinning and despite the darkness, he could see one face with alarming clarity; one beautiful face he will always want to see.

_Pathetic, Kit Harington. Absolutely pathetic. You claim to know her like she is a part of you and yet, you hadn’t even realised when she no longer sees you as her lover; when she no longer loves you. You are nothing to her._

 

**Rose**

_Kit…_

Her chest ached for him as she stared at the closed door, at lost for what to do. She has never seen Kit so distraught in the two years she has gotten to know him. Kit has always been a little closed off, to everyone as far as Rose noticed; everyone but _her._

When Rose first saw them together, Kit became a completely different person with her like he has never been with another person. At that time, Rose had dismissed it for the fact that they knew each other for longer and were probably just close mates. Then Rose began spending more time with them courtesy of her close friendship with both Kit and Emilia and she began to notice the light in his eyes when he spoke of her or to her, the way he was uncannily attuned to her needs the way a person shouldn’t be to another’s needs, the way he was protective of her, the way his body turned to her when she was around him. He acted like she was the only person around, even when Rose herself sat opposite him…

_“That was a dick move,” Emilia scoffed to Kit, who rolled his eyes at Emilia’s retort._

_“Yes, yes, I know. ‘Don’t be a dick’, I remember,” Kit mimicked who Rose presumed was supposed to be Emilia. Emilia scowled but Rose could see the humour in her eyes. Rose laughed at their exchange and Emilia smiled at her. As they approached the table, Rose settled into a chair at the table for two they decided to sit at, since the al fresco was exceptionally crowded. Kit came after Emilia and stood beside the other vacant seat. All the while, Emilia glanced about for an extra chair._

_“Sit here,” Rose’s eyes fell to Kit’s hand which settled tenderly on Emilia’s forearm. He was gazing at her as he said softly, the other hand pulling out the other seat for her._

_Emilia smiled and shook her head, “it’s fine, I’ll go get another seat,” she said quickly before she spotted a vacant chair at another table and asked the couple at the other table for it. Before she could pick up the vacant chair and carry it to their table, Kit was there and picking it up with one arm. He gestured dramatically with the other arm for Emilia to return to their table before him and Emilia giggled, “such a gentleman,” Emilia teased._

_Kit wore a small pleased smile upon Emilia’s tease, “careful, you might just end up on the pavement,” Kit smirked as he set the chair at their table and held it while Emilia sat. His smirk widened into a genuine smile when Emilia feigned a scowl and a glare._

_Kit’s smile made Rose’s stomach do backflips; but the smile wasn’t for her. Rose’s smile faded when she saw the way Kit’s eyes were fixed on Emilia as he held the seat for her while Emilia sat and hung her jacket on the back of her seat. Kit’s eyes lingered on her even as he took his seat opposite Rose._

_The server came with the menu and water and it wasn’t long before they were pouring over the menu. Rose gazed at Kit over the menu to see him reading it, focussed. Then Kit said, “Sweet or savoury?”_

_Rose was puzzled._

_“Neither, probably going to get a juice,” Emilia replied. Neither looked up from their menus. It didn’t seem like they have a need for eye-contact to communicate, “Rose what are you getting?” Emilia met her eye with a smile._

_Rose flustered, glancing down, “the salad probably,” Emilia craned her neck to peep at her menu and Rose pointed to it._

_“Nice,” Emilia nodded her approval, grinning, “you getting juice?”_

_Rose shook her head, groaning, “I need coffee,”_

_Emilia laughed, “haven’t had one today?” Rose nodded her head in affirmation. Emilia glanced over to Kit, “found your people,”_

_Kit chuckled, meeting Rose’s eye, “so that’s why we get on,” Rose laughed, her heart singing. Until Kit turned away and asked, “you not hungry? Want to share something?”_

_Emilia shook her head, “fuck no, you’re probably going for that burger aren’t you?” Rose realised it wasn’t a secret that Kit usually went for something heavy and flavourful, like a burger._

_Kit pursed his lips, “no, I’m actually thinking of the breakfast wrap or one of the pancakes,” Rose knew instantly it was out of his usual order. In all their dates, she has never known Kit to order pancakes-_

_“Ah fuck,” Emilia bit her bottom lip in thought as she gazed down at her menu, thus missing Kit’s pleased, smug, smile, “I want some of that!” Emilia groaned in complain, “but the juices sound so good,”_

_Kit rolled his eyes at Emilia’s indecision but couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face, “get them then,” he feigned impatience and waved the server over to indicate they are ready to order and Emilia looked up, panicking. She met Kit’s grin with a glare as they began ordering, “one breakfast wrap please,” the server began jotting it down. Kit turned to them both. Rose put down her order for her salad and a coffee._

_“Make that two coffees,” Emilia said hastily, glancing meaningfully to Kit. Emilia missed Kit’s small grateful smile at Emilia as she gazed down to choose her juice but Rose saw it, “Sorry, just give me a moment…” Emilia muttered as she struggled to make up her mind over the juices._

_Kit leaned over, peering at her menu. Emilia gazed at him, clearly panicked as she pointed at four juices and Kit met her gaze. Rose couldn’t help but feel that there was a whole conversation going on between them that she wasn’t privy to. Kit smiled and he looked up at the server, “A liver flush, an anti-inflammatory, the Chlorophyll and the Gratitude please,”_

_Emilia jolted forward in objection that Kit has ordered them all. The server glanced between them, amused. Emilia flushed in embarrassment and shook her head in dismissal. The server repeated their orders and collected their menus before leaving. Emilia hissed instantly, looking nothing short of embarrassed and a little put out, “you’re fucking crazy, Harington. How am I going to finish them all?”_

_Kit shrugged, “I can help you with them, we’re sharing the wrap anyway,” Emilia was not amused and she sighed, turning to Rose for help, “worse comes to worse, between the both of us we’ll probably clock a few runs to the loo by the time our lunch ends,”_

_A smile of amusement cracked Emilia’s distress and she burst out giggling loudly. Emilia did not see the pleased smile Kit tried to hide as his eyes lit up, drinking in the sight of her giggling._

_Their lunch arrived while Emilia was telling Rose about her experience filming a movie with Jude Law. Kit has not taken his eyes off Emilia as she related her story. The server glanced between them for where to put the breakfast wrap and after Emilia’s insistence that Kit ate first, guessing that he would be famished, Kit relented. As they dug into their food, Emilia sipping out of her many juices, she retrieved her phone from her pocket and began typing on it. Rose watched Kit glance to Emilia a few times as he cut the wrap, not yet taking a single bite but Emilia was fully engrossed into whatever is going on on her phone and did not notice Kit waiting for her._

_“What’s wrong?” Rose asked and Kit watched her curiously for her answer, drinking from one of Emilia’s juices._

_Emilia glanced up before resuming typing, “sorry, you guys dig in, Michael is just texting me about the Vanity Fair party,”_

_“The Oscar party?” Rose asked, sipping at her coffee._

_“Mmm hmm,” Emilia replied distractedly. Then she jumped as Kit shoved a bite of wrap on the edge of his fork under her mouth. Glancing to him, she muttered a quick, “thanks,” before taking the mouthful. Kit then turned back to the wrap and ate a mouthful. Rose wanted to talk to Kit while Emilia was texting but felt a twinge of discomfort as she watched Kit alternate between having a mouth of the wrap and feeding another to Emilia while she busied herself replying her agent. Between watching if Emilia has finished her bite and cutting up the wrap, Kit looked like he barely has the time to talk to Rose._

_It was well into the meal when Emilia finally stowed away her phone, “so sorry about that,” Emilia sighed, taking a deep drink of her dark red juice._

_“No worries,” Rose smiled, “who are you going to bring to the Oscar Party?”_

_Emilia seemed suddenly shy, “Cory, if he can make it,”_

_Rose squealed excitedly for her, “you’ve asked him?”_

_“Not really,” Emilia shrugged, “we were discussing it and he asked me who I was going with and I didn’t have anyone else to ask who would agree to go with a complete embarrassment…” Rose noticed Emilia glancing to Kit then. Rose followed her glance to realise Kit was completely silent, focussed and taking his time cutting the wrap._

_Emilia laughed then, staring the half glass of juice left of two glasses Kit finished, “you’re going to have great bowel movements, Kitten,”_

_It didn’t escape Rose’s notice that Kit barely flinched at that nickname that Emilia claimed he ‘hates’. In fact, a small smile graced his heart-shaped lips before Kit made a face, “I’d appreciate for you not to bring that up while we’re eating, Clarke,” with that, he shoved another forkful of the wrap to her mouth, “not very appetising,”_

_Emilia blinked. She seemed to become self-conscious of being fed suddenly, perhaps having not thought it through while she was texting._ Kit probably fed her often, for her to get that used to it… _Rose could not help the bitter taste that flooded her mouth. Emilia drew back, smiling politely as she took the fork from his fingers and taking the bite, “thank you,” she returned him the fork. When Kit looked at her questioningly, both hands working to cut another bite of the wrap, Emilia shook her head dismissively with a smile. Kit studied her for a moment before he seemed to come to the conclusion that she was indeed full and he dug into it in earnest. As Kit finished the meal, Emilia begged for both of them to relate some filming experiences in Iceland to her. Rose started with Kit chiming in once in a while. When Emilia laughed heartily as Kit dropped a dry humorous comment, Rose realised Kit was turned to her the entire time, his leg folded towards her._

_As they left the Al Fresco that day, Emilia throwing an arm around her shoulders, two things became clear to Rose. First, Kit fancied Emilia, deeply. Second, that first realisation made Rose bitter with envy and it told Rose that she did not merely fancied Kit; she could be in love with him._

Rose wanted to tell Kit how she felt for him like Emilia always encouraged. Many times, Rose had almost blurted it but she was scared how Kit will respond to that. _What will he say when he fancies Emilia?_

It frustrated and hurt Rose to see Kit smiling at his phone like that, when Rose knew that Emilia did not feel the same way. In a moment of frustration for the sweet smile Kit wore for her, Rose had blurted to him that Emilia does not feel the same way he feels for her. And she regretted it, for Kit was suddenly like an open book to her when all the years she has known him, she couldn’t read his emotion he has hidden. The pain in his eyes were palpable and Rose _felt_ his pain. She realised then she has broken the man, by carelessly telling him an observation of hers. The sight of his tears, her first sight of them, was worse.

If Rose has ever wondered if Kit has told Emilia about his feelings for her and discussed it with her, his reaction to her revelation told her they haven’t spoken of this. Kit has probably yet to tell Emilia about his feelings. But for Emilia not to notice it would have been impossible, Kit could barely hide his affections for her. _She couldn’t have been that oblivious… they are best mates for Christ’s sake. Unless-_ Rose paused.

_Emilia knew._

Rose let that realisation sink in and suddenly, she saw all Kit and Emilia’s interaction in a different light. Rose saw how Emilia’s hand landed one time too many on Kit’s arm, she saw how Emilia winked at Kit, she saw how Emilia nudged Kit’s leg with her own under the table when trying to get his attention to tell him something. And Rose saw how Kit reacted to her. _Silly Kit…_

Then Rose saw her own interactions with Emilia. Rose could still remember how Emilia encouraged Rose to go for Kit, going so far as to reassure her when Rose experienced nerves a few hours before her date with Kit. _Emilia knew Kit liked her and yet, she encouraged me to put myself right in there all while she flirted with Kit on the side…_

Angry tears welled in her eyes as the feeling of betrayal cut her deep. _How could Emilia do this; to me, and to Kit?_ Rage heated her up and made it hard for her to breathe. Rose knew then she needed to talk to her, face to face. She was never one who could let things slide just like that. With that thought, Rose grabbed the keys of Kit’s apartment from the counter. She shut the door and flagged a taxi. Reciting Emilia’s address that Rose knew by heart, Rose hated herself; for being so gullible.

_You have always known…there is no such thing as true friendship to be found in this industry. Every single one of them is vile to the bone… You knew and you went into it anyway…you’re so stupid, Rose._

Rose could already hear her father chiding her like so. She sobbed in the back of the taxi, uncaring for the driver who glanced worriedly into the rear view mirror.

When the driver stopped her on the curb in front of Emilia’s house, Rose almost did not dare to alight. But eventually, she did. She came to the front steps and raised her hand to knock. Her heart was pounding, with anxiety but mostly rage. It made her forgo all the manners she was taught when she was a child and hammered on the door loudly. It took a while before Rose heard footsteps approaching the other side of the door. Rose wondered briefly if Jai was at her place. She wondered if she was fucking him right now. _And meanwhile, Kit is crying over his broken heart._

The door swung open, revealing the brunette who was so petite she stood half a head shorter than Rose, “Rose? What are you doing here?” Emilia’s hair was dishevelled, her face bare of makeup and her lips pale. It was obvious she has been woken from her sleep and the dark circles under her eyes was telling of her intense fatigue post-filming. Rose gritted her teeth, refraining from shouting right at the doorstep. Angry as she may be, Rose was not at the point in which she would forgo her own public image, yet.

“Can I come in?” Rose managed evenly, schooling her face to that of an uncanny calm.

Emilia squinted at her face, “are you alright? Have you been crying?” her brows rose in evident worry. _Just a fucking act, like how she played me and Kit…_ Rose could have grabbed her shoulders and shook her then and there, demanding to know why she would do such a thing, “oh fuck my manners, come on in,” Emilia slapped her forehead and she quickly stepped back, inviting her in.

Rose quietly entered, glancing around. It was dimly lit in the sitting area, a reminder of how she has woken Emilia. The light flickered on and Rose blinked, momentarily blinded. Emilia came around and Rose startled to feel Emilia’s warm hand on her bare arms.

“You’re freezing!” Emilia rubbed her arms warm briefly before she turned to the couch and grabbed a jumper, “here, wear this. I’ll turn the heater on,” Rose took it numbly but did not put it on. Instead, she watched Emilia busy herself with starting the heater, “have you had anything to eat?” Emilia asked with her back to her, “I don’t have much but I bought a chocolate cake on the way back from the airport-“

Rose glared at her, suddenly immensely tired of this act, “ _no fucking need_ ,” she hissed out.

Emilia’s hands stilled. Rose watched her straighten and pause. Rose understood her hesitation; Rose has never spoken to her like that. She rarely swore at her friends. When Emilia did turn, Rose glared. _Of course she looks fucking gorgeous, every lying bitch I have met definitely is._ The apprehension on Emilia’s face was laughable to Rose. _As if she didn’t know what she did wrong…_ “Rose?” Emilia seemed to have noticed the look on her face then and who it was directed to, “what…what’s wrong?”

_Enough._

Rose felt her back tense. In a breath, she took four brisk steps to cover the distance between them and without missing a beat, her hand collided soundly with her cheek. The force of it snapped Emilia’s head to the side and the surprise of it sent her reeling. Rose felt guilt momentarily but when Emilia fell harmlessly onto her sofa, disgust for her once-best-mate rose in her throat.

Emilia’s hand was trembling visibly as it came up to touch her quickly reddening cheek. Rose glimpsed her parted lips from which she drew a shaky breath. _Look me in the eye, I dare you._ Rose glared at her as Emilia turned, hesitated before eventually looking up to meet her eye. Emilia had cherubic features; high cheekbones, soft flushed cheeks, plump lips which pouted and large eyes. _Deceivingly innocent._

And Rose felt that probably did play a part in how blind she was been in this whole thing, how much Rose trusted her so unconditionally and unquestioningly. Rose suddenly felt sick, seeing her, “you knew…” Rose whispered, “you knew that Kit fancies you,” the shocked look of disbelief drained from Emilia’s eyes, leaving no question as to whether it was news to her. The sight of it, the truth of the matter made Rose even angrier, so much so she thought she could hit her again, “you knew that and you led him on…”

Tears welled in her eyes and Emilia’s lips parted, as if to say something. Rose realised then she did not want to hear it, whatever it was.

Rose spat, “you led him on and you played me,” Rose roughly wiped away angry tears from her own cheeks, “you told me to hit on the bloke when you know he fancies you. All while you continue to flirt with him and fuck any other cute guy that comes your way!” Rose snarled, “how could you do this to us?”  

Emilia flinched visibly, starting to cry, “R-Rose, please, it’s not like that-“

“Tell that to Kit,” Rose snapped, “you owe him an explanation; your _best_ mate whom you claim to care so much about but have no idea what is happening with him at all,” _how infatuated he is with you… how much he cares for you… how deep he has gone…_

Emilia’s brows furrowed and she seemed to be processing what she was told before her eyes snapped up, watery with worry, “what happened? Where is he?” she stood and peered behind Rose as if hoping Kit was there. The hope in her eyes were so palpable but Rose felt utterly disgusted that she would dare to face Kit after what she has been doing to him. Realising he is not there, Emilia turned those bright green eyes back onto Rose, reaching for her hand, “is he alright-“

Rose pulled her hand away sharply as if Emilia’s touch scalded her and it probably would have stung, “he doesn’t need your false pity!” Rose spat. Emilia winced and Rose took a breath to say in a measured tone, “he just needs you to tell him, _clearly_ , what the two of you really are because your body language sure as hell isn’t doing so,” she snarled, “I am sick of watching you give him hope time and time again, that you might have some feelings for him; then you go off and fuck every other bloke you happen to work with! Do you know how much that hurts him?” Emilia was sobbing into her hand at this point. Feigned as it may be, it looked damn realistic to Rose.

Rose did not have the heart to look at her any longer then. Releasing a breath she didn’t realise she has been holding, Rose turned to show herself the way out. She has said all that she needed to say, for Kit and for herself.

“Rose,”

Her feet stilled.

“I’m so sorry,” Emilia whispered. An admittance to whatever Rose said of her. It stung when Rose thought she would be happy to have been right. That told her that some part of her had wanted to keep her friend and Rose bit the inside of her mouth against a sob.

_And what will Kit and I do with that? They are only words._

Rose fisted her hands by her side, refraining with great effort from going back to hit her again, fuelled by sheer resentment, “I’m sorry to both of you, for everything,” Emilia choked out the words and Rose turned, peering over her shoulder to meet Emilia’s watery gaze, “take care of him for-“ her words trailed off before she continued, with renewed strength, “make him happy,” Rose paused. The look in Emilia’s eyes was not unlike the one she saw in Kit’s earlier tonight; sheer agony. The likeliness of the look in both their eyes shook her to the core and the skin of her forearm pimpled.

For a moment, Rose’s resolve faltered and regret creeped into her burning body for what she has said to her friend.

 _No, she isn’t your friend. Friends don’t play each other like she has done you. Aren’t you fool enough, Rose Leslie?_ Steeling herself to be strong, if not for herself then for Kit, Rose glared at her, fighting the tears as she fled, letting the door slam shut behind her.

On the taxi ride back to Kit’s, nothing but Kit filled her mind and her heart.

Kit has always been a little of an enigma to her. She could not really read his emotions that he seemed to have hidden or understand him since Kit was not accustomed to explain himself. At first, it infuriated her but as time passed, she realised she liked that. She liked finding out new things about him every day and knowing there was only more she can learn about him. Every day is a process of slowly getting to know him. Rose thought she would be happy spending the rest of her life knowing him. _If he’d let me…_ Rose thought bitterly.

She liked Kit’s sense of humour as well, dry as it may be but very much amusingly British and Rose enjoyed him greatly. That, and he was probably the only bloke Rose could bring home who her dad would approve of; someone with a worthy family name, of the same class as they were and with a bright promising future in his career. Kit was everything her past boyfriends weren’t; it was like he was born just for her.

Rose knew she would be damned if she did not fight for him and simply gave up and let him go.

She opened the door to his apartment, wracking her brains for how she should get him to open his door and let her in; in more ways than one. But it was all for naught.

When she opened the door, she heard hurried footsteps before she was yanked forward. She glimpsed the telling dark curls as she was crushed against him, “where have you gone?” his voice was hoarse, like he has been screaming.

“I-“ Rose croaked, speechless. Kit has never hugged her like he did now, not even when they’ve slept together. He was holding her firmly but gently. He was crushing her to him but he wasn’t hurting her. Kit had arms for that, large arms that were soft but strong; arms that were meant to hold another in them. Wordlessly, she eagerly snaked her arms around his waist, securing her hand on her arm so she held him as he deserved to be.

“I thought you didn’t care anymore. I thought you gave up,” he whispered, “I thought you didn’t want me. No one wanted me anymore-“

“No,” Rose objected gently, “I want you, I would always want you. I popped out to buy something…” she lied.  _He needn't know...it'll hurt him more, to know she didn't even bother to deny it..._

Kit nodded and buried his face into her neck. Rose was alarmed to feel hot wet tears on her skin, “I have no one now,” he said in a strangled tone.

“You have me,” Rose stated firmly, lifting an arm with great difficulty against his vice-like grip his arms have on her. She stroked his back.

The eagerness in which he nodded broke her heart, “don’t you leave me too, Rose. _Please,_ ” his voice broke into soft sobs.

“I won’t. If you would let me, I’ll take care of you,” Rose said. The words worked wonders and his sobs soothed, ebbing away with soft hiccups as Rose hushed him gently, “I’ll make you happy,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, an angst-filled chapter that stirred up a huge pot of mess between these three. I do realise that Rose is excessively cruel here but, in case of any confusion for why Rose did the things she did... She is of the opinion that Kit likes Emilia but has no clue that they were actually together. So she thought that Emilia, with full knowledge that Kit likes her, behaves so (in her eyes) flirtatiously with him when Emilia (again in Rose's eyes) has no intention whatsoever to get together with Kit (i.e. is toying with Kit). To make it worse, while this is going on between them, Emilia has gone and encouraged Rose to get with Kit. From Rose's POV, this is manipulative on Emilia's part. So yeah, Rose felt betrayed.   
> About Kit, yes, he knows that it is Rose at the end and he is starting to develop some abandonment complex. 
> 
> Well, I would love to hear what you all think about this (pretty big) chapter! So do let me know in the comments. 
> 
> If it is any comfort, (if things go as planned) Kit and Emilia will meet next chapter :)


	15. Knot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True fans of Emilia will probably know what I am writing about (at the end) just by seeing the title. 
> 
> Warning: heavy angst (I know... what's new but seriously this time guys) and smut ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #TBT to when we filmed in Osuna, Spain for @GameofThrones in October 2014. We were there for about 10 days. One day, we were wrapped early because a green screen fell down due to high winds and the production had to make sure it was safe. It meant I was free to wander around the town by myself during the siesta... and it was the most perfectly peaceful afternoon. There was no one else around as the Spanish take that siesta business so seriously, at least in this part of Spain they did... (I wish we had them too if I’m honest 😂). I walked up to the cathedral overlooking the town, and just sat on a wall quietly for quite a while... an hour and a half or so. I remember taking this photo to remind me of that feeling of peace, as contrived/posed as it might be. I just found it and it had the exact effect I had hoped for. #peaceful #exploringOsuna #justcallmedora #Osuna #Spain#GameofThrones #Season5#thefightingpitsofmeereen #ilikequiet#siestasarethebomb #thespanishgotitright#😴 #itwaslikeaghosttown #beautifultown#beautifulviews #beautifulpeople#Ilovemyjob #sograteful  
> \- Natalie Emmanuel (Instagram, Feb 2018)
> 
> Game of Thrones news: Filming Halted over cast safety fears following on set accident. Osuna’s Plaza de Toros bullring was used to shoot scenes set at the Meereen fighting pit during the fifth series.  
> \- Express UK (Feb 2018) 
> 
> (Does Emilia Clarke have tattoos) I do, I have one here (pointing at the bee). And I have another one hiding here (moves her ring off her right pinky) that’s white. (Points at the left pinky) This is a bee, for Me Before You. Um, I got it on that movie ‘cause I just had such a wonderful time.  
> \- Emilia Clarke (WIRED, 2018)

Oct 2014

**Kit**

_Emilia looked tired; more than usual. She was smiling but it didn’t reach her eyes. Eager to remedy that, Kit grinned and said, “happy belated first-kiss day, my love,”_

_Emilia giggled, her eyes disappearing behind her bunched up, reddening cheeks. Kit chuckled happily, “happy belated first-kiss day, Kitten,” she grinned and enthused._

_“Alright, c’mere, give me a kiss,” Kit leaned towards the phone._

_She laughed, “no! I am not going to kiss my phone,”_

_Kit narrowed his eye, “no, you’re going to kiss me,” she pursed her lips unsuccessfully against a smile, “c’mon. I know you want to,”_

_Emilia giggled as she leaned forward, obligingly, to kiss him. Kit grinned, hearing her kiss as he pressed a kiss to the screen. She giggled uncontrollably and pulled away._

_“Hey come back, I’m not done,” he laughed, kissing the screen again and making her giggle. Pulling away, he smiled as he saw that she was curled up on the bed, holding her stomach in mirth, “happy birthday, Milly,” Kit waited patiently for her to try and fail to quell her giggles._

_When she finally did, Emilia smiled. Biting her lip, she replied, “thank you,” his eyes darted down to her lips and Kit felt a lump form in his throat. It was evident to him then he missed her in more ways than one. His heart missed her terribly and his body only missed her more._

_“About your present…it’s not ready yet… it’s actually on hold but it’s coming,” Kit said. He had a pretty good idea of what he was going to get her. It was going to be big and it was his way; the crazy thing he’d do for love. In fact, Kit was slightly afraid she’ll turn it down because of how ridiculous it was but he was pretty determined about it. He had already made arrangement to go down to get it during his upcoming week long break before Iceland, and give it to Emilia._

_“Really?” Emilia raised a brow, looking rightfully a little afraid, “nothing too extravagant, Kitten,” she warned._

_“Nothing you don’t deserve,” he corrected._

_“No, I won’t accept something too expensive,” she stated firmly, “it’s the thought that counts,”_

_Kit has honestly never had a girl worry about his finances like Emilia does but she was right. They weren’t earning a lot from Thrones and depending on how season 2 went, they might both be booted into the camp of jobless actors after this December. It was only right that he saved up what he earned for the uncertain future of an actor._ Trust her to be the rational one between the two of us _._

_A part of Kit hated this. He knew if they were loaded, he will fly over every chance he got to meet her and she’ll do the same. It’ll be so much easier in a way. But they both weren’t and they were young people who should rightfully be saving for the future. At that thought, Kit teased Emilia then, “what? Worried we won’t be able to feed our babies?”_

Kit gazed down at the boarding pass to the plane heading to Pittsburgh that he has just collected from the counter. It has costed him 600 quid for this one ticket. Exactly 3 years ago, with his dismal paycheck, Kit would have struggled to pay for this. But he knew he would have gone, regardless. The thought of Emilia’s express disapproval at his splurge was the only thing stopping him.

His phone vibrated and Kit pulled it from his pocket.

**You at the airport? I can’t wait to finally see you.**

Kit smiled and quickly replied her text. **Yes, at the airport, just got my boarding pass.** His fingers hesitated over the keyboard for what to reply the second part of Rose’s text. Eventually, he pushed send and glanced about the airport.

_~I JUST HAD SEX~_

_~AND MY DREAMS CAME TRUE (DREAMS CAME TRUE)~_

_Everyone. Literally, everyone turned to him. Kit blinked, his mind totally blank._

_~SO IF YOU HAD SEX IN THE LAST 30 MINUTES~_

_~THEN YOU’RE QUALIFIED TO SING WITH ME~_

_It took Kit a moment to realise the song was coming from him._

_~I JUST HAD SEX (EVERYBODY SING!)~_

_~AND IT FELT SO GOOD (WE ALL HAD SEX)~_

_“Fuck,” Kit muttered as he realised his phone was vibrating in his pocket and the song was coming from his ringing phone, “fuck,” he dug into the pocket of his tight jeans and wrestled his phone out._

_~A WOMAN LET ME PUT MY P-~_

_His cheeks were burning as he fumbled with the phone and quickly picked up the call. He hadn’t even looked at who had dialled him as he pressed the phone to his ear and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He buried his hot face in his free hand, “hello…”_

_“Kitten!” It was Emilia. At the sound of her lovely voice, he smiled despite his embarrassing situation, “just called to tell you I’ll miss you. In fact… I miss you already. Have a safe flight, love you,” she giggled into the phone and Kit paused. It was the first time she told him that directly; the last time being mentioned in passing during their dance on Valentine’s Day, “and-“ she paused, “Happy April’s Fools!” he heard her chortle before she hung up._

Kit chuckled, blinking to realise his eyes were damp. His smile drained from his face as he wiped at his wet eyes with the heel of his palm. He glanced about and all he could see were the bemused expression of fellow passengers, one even congratulating him. It became increasingly hard for him to breathe. Squeezing his eyes shut, Kit took a shallow breath and hurriedly stood up. He headed straight for the smoking area as he unlocked his phone and went straight to his speed dial.

He watched Rose’s picture come up on his screen as he rang her. It went on for two rings and Kit managed to take a long drag of his cigarette before she picked up. Kit stared at the grey loading circle, feeling that desperate need to see another face than the one his mind was stuck on _._ He needed to see another face that wouldn’t steal all the air from his lungs and put a heavy rock on his chest.

“Kit, love!” Rose grinned widely at him and Kit couldn’t help the smile that spread over his lips at the rare sight of the way her eyes momentarily disappeared. She was just grinning so wide.

“Hi,” Kit hunched deeper into his jumper as he took a long drag from his cigarette. He pressed his chin to his chest as he lowered the phone. Kit looked intently into her bright blue eyes and as Rose shifted, Kit thought he glimpsed a flash of gold. His smile widened at the sight, “I miss you,” his voice was unusually deep, husky as if he has just woken from his sleep.

Rose paused, her smile faltering. Kit missed it instantly. Her lips parted as if she was breathing through her mouth now. He could’ve sworn he saw her eyes well up with tears as she sniffed, “I miss you too, so much,” at that moment, Kit was unwittingly yanked into a not-too-distant past.

_Kit was alarmed to see her reddened eyes and the tears that welled up in them. A lump formed in his throat at the sight of her tears and his stomach twisted nauseatingly, “Milly!” he dropped the keys back into his pocket and brought his hands to her face; frantic to quell her worry, anxiety and fix whatever was upsetting her. He cupped her face gently between his hands but a sob ripped itself from her throat and his heart wrenched painfully. He gathered her into his arms and Emilia pressed her face into his shoulder, her hands fisting his shirt. He whispered soft meaningless words of assurances and love into her ear but she only sobbed harder._

_Kit was completely bewildered._ Was it her auditions? Did she do badly? _But Kit knew Emilia was stronger than this and failed auditions, which she have been through before, will not warrant such a response from her._ Did something happen with her family? But she was just with her mother…Was filming in Croatia going badly… fuck, I haven’t been asking-

“How’s filming been?” Kit asked hastily, “has the cast and crew been kind to you?”

Rose paused, taken aback with his supposed reply. She blinked before she replied, “good, everyone’s been lovely. Why the sudden question?”

 _Kit… This is not going to work._ He could still hear her voice. Kit swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head,  “nothing, just concerned,”

Slowly but surely, Rose smiled. Her blue eyes twinkled as she whispered, her voice low, “Christopher… that’s so sweet, thank you,” she always called him that when she was pleased, or at the height of her pleasure. Kit didn’t feel much for it for he didn’t feel like a Christopher or a Chris at all. He supposed Rose liked it, probably for its sophistication. He has yet to meet her family and cousins but from what he heard of their names from her, they were all sophisticated and have posh names. Truth be told, he was terrified to meet them. He felt inadequate, having not had the privileged upbringing they did. Although Rose felt very much differently about him meeting them; she was eager at worse.

Inhaling his cigarette as he thought of what to say, Kit asked her, “so what are you up to today?”

Rose glanced to the side before she sighed dramatically, “filming. I’m sorry, love, wouldn’t be able to see you at the airport-“

Kit did a quick mental calculation of the time to find out it is 7am over there so she would have just began filming, since she looked already made up, “no problem, I’ll see myself to the hotel,” Kit dismissed it hurriedly.

She smiled, “see you at the hotel then, my dear,” Kit nodded with a smile and Rose blew him a kiss before waiting expectantly. Kit chuckled and glanced about hesitantly. Rose did love public display of affection. Knowing it would please her very much to see him return it, Kit did, as subtly as he can manage in the crowded airport. As he expected, Rose grinned, satisfied before she hung up. Kit stretched and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He stubbed out his cigarette, picked up his hand-carry and was about to enter the gates when his phone vibrated.

Curious, he retrieved his phone to glance down at the message. It was the group chat of the Game of Thrones cast.

On it, Alfie has written: **Hope you guys in Spain are alright.**

His heart skipped a beat when he read the message and the meaning behind it sank in. _Spain._

_What has happened? Emilia’s filming in Spain-_

Lena’s reply to Alfie popped up at the top of his screen: **What happened?**

Kit slowed down his pace and stared unblinkingly at his phone screen while he waited for a reply from Alfie. It came through: **Heard an accident happened in the fighting pit :(**

Panic engulfed him within seconds and fear rooted him to the spot. Around him, the crowd streamed in to board the plane. _Milly…_ Kit fumbled to unlock his phone and Kit went straight to her contact. Without pausing to consider, unable to through the sheer terror that gripped him, Kit called her. Suddenly, the fact that he hasn’t been in contact with her for the past 2 months and why that was so seemed so petty and unimportant.

He almost dropped his phone when he heard her voice.

“Hi there-”

Kit demanded, a little too loudly and attracted disapproving glances from others around him, “Milly! Thank God, are you okay-“

“It’s Emilia. I’m sorry I’m unable to take your call right now but please leave me a message and I’ll call you as soon as I can. Thanks!” A dull beep followed.

It was ridiculous how the mere sound of her voice, even pre-recoded sent his heart into erratic palpitations.

He redialled her number, jamming some remnants of hope down his constricted throat, just so he could breathe. He willed it to ring as he pressed the phone to his ear.

It didn’t ring. “Hi-“

Just short of yelling in frustration, he hung up and redialled her number. When it still went to her voicemail, Kit redialled again. Kit choked on a sob as hope inched farther away with each call he made that went straight to her voicemail. Raking the back of his free hand over his wet eyes, Kit dragged his feet to the nearest seat and dropped heavily into it, his phone still glued to his ear.

“It’s Emilia. I’m sorry I’m unable to take your call right now but please leave me a message and I’ll call you as soon as I can. Thanks!” Kit listened to the silence of her voicemail for a long moment, sitting with his fear and the likely truth that he knew he would have to accept eventually. _I’m no use here._ Kit realised. Sniffing and wiping his face dry, Kit stood and almost ran from the boarding gate to the counter.

As he queued, he regained some wit and called David, followed by Dan. Both of them did not pick up and Kit supposed they would be busy with the recent incident. There was no news on the group chat as well, apart from worried cast members.

When he stepped up to the counter, without missing a beat, Kit said thickly, “a ticket on the soonest flight to Osuna, Spain, please,”

With his heart in his throat, his one hand clutched his ticket while the other pressed his phone to his ear. Kit stared at the display beside the boarding gate, just waiting for the signal to bolt to his feet. In his ear, she was talking to him, calming him enough to sit and wait even if she was the one who reduced him to a crippling mess of anxiety in the first place, “Hi there! It’s Emilia. I’m sorry I’m unable to take your call right now but please leave me a message and I’ll call you as soon as I can. Thanks!”

“Nothing can happen to you…” Kit muttered to himself as he hurriedly hung up before redialling her number again and pressing the phone firmly against his ear.

“Hi there! It’s Emilia,” Kit swallowed a sob, “I’m sorry I’m unable to take your call right now but please leave me a message and I’ll call you as soon as I can. Thanks!”

“We said we’ll support each other. We’ll have each other’s back. You can’t leave me now,” Kit whispered as the message ended and he redialled it frantically, “even if you don’t- even if you don’t love me, you can’t leave me alone like this,” he drank in the sound of her voice, “you can’t leave me alone,” he said, his voice wavering, “please,” as he redialled, he muttered, “I know you’re fine. Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up Milly… please pick up…”

She did not. The line seemed permanently engaged.

All through the 3 hours flight, Kit spent it picking the callous on his palm till one of it bled. He had stopped then at the thought of how it would upset her; if she saw it. Then he alternated it to wringing his fingers as he had stared out the plane, not daring and yet contemplating what he would do if something did happen to her; what he _can_ do. He wondered more than once how he could live knowing that the girl, the first girl he has ever loved, was no longer in this world. How could he draw another breath knowing she no longer did, how could he look at the sky and the clouds knowing there was no chance that she was looking at the same piece of the sky the same time he was?

Kit came up empty to all his questions but one: could he simply forget her and move on?

No.

Kit could not imagine himself doing it. He could not see himself going through a day without thinking about her. Even if he was not in contact with her. Even if she did not love him. Even if she was no longer around-

He let the lump, ever-present since he first heard the news, wedge itself in his throat, he let tears that welled up in his eyes trickle down his cheek into his beard, he let his body take only shallow breaths when deep, easy breaths were no longer possible.

He called her when he landed, now numb after sitting through hours of contemplating her death. Or so he had thought.

The sound her voicemail filled his now dry eyes. Kit listened to her voice, clinging onto that one sign of life from her; the only one he had left, all while he made a beeline for a taxi.

As he exited the airport and was about to redial her number, Kit startled when his phone rung from an incoming call. He fumbled with his phone and upon seeing that it was David, Kit quickly picked up.

“Where is she?!” Kit shouted but his voice came out as a weak croak.

“What?” David, understandably on hindsight, asked.

“Emilia,” Kit managed only a whisper of her name through tears, “where is she?”

“Uhhh…Kit-?”

“David!” Kit snapped.

“I have no idea, Kit,” David replied.  

“Just tell me,” he pleaded, his voice cracking from dread, “I’ve been calling her… Is she hurt?”

“What?” David sounded surprised, “no, some crew members were hurt when the green screen fell but that was during the set-up, before we began filming. We cancelled filming for the day-“

Kit’s hand turned limp and he dropped his phone soundly.

Staring blankly at nothing in particular, Kit clung onto that piece of information as he let it sink in against hours of contemplating the opposite.

_She’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine… Milly…Milly is perfectly fine…_

Blinking away tears, Kit took a deep breath and hopped into a vacant taxi. He knew he had to see the truth for himself to truly rest easy. He clutched and twisted his fingers throughout the ride to the hotel, anxious but it was no longer overwhelmingly so. He could stem his tears, at the very least. When he came to it, he had rushed to the reception, said her name and requested to know her room number. The staff at the reception was understandably cautious but thankfully, one of them has watched the show and recognised him. Thus, after giving an autograph or two, Kit found himself walking down the corridor to her room.

Fearful that David could be wrong or has misunderstood his question or, for some ridiculous reason, was hiding it from him, Kit broke into a run. Coming to a stop outside the room number he was given, Kit knocked. He was a tight-strung anxiety-filled mess as he waited. His jaw was beginning to ache from how hard he was grinding his teeth, just to stop the shaking. His fingers clutched the door frame as he resisted the urge to knock again.

“Milly?” Kit blurted as he stared at the still-closed door, dreading her absence. He hated the tremor in his voice. Lifting a hand, he knocked again; louder this time. _Please open the door…_ “Emilia-“

The door opened.

 

**Emilia**

She thought she was dreaming when she opened her eyes to the sound of his voice calling for her. It took her a moment to register that she was in her hotel room in Osuna. And another to register the knocking on her door. She reached for her phone, wanting to check the time to see that it was dead. She plugged it into the cable and let it begin charging.

Another knock got her on her feet. As she approached the door, a wobble in her step and the dull throb in her head reminded her that she had drunk herself to sleep earlier in the day. Cursing the person at the door for waking her when she could finally have her first restful night for a while, Emilia yanked open the door.

_It wasn’t a dream._

It was her first thought and her only thought before he grabbed her by the front of her bathrobe and yanked her towards him. He wasn’t gentle and she helplessly fell into his vice-like embrace. Paralysed by the sheer shock and then disbelief, but mostly by sturdy arms which crushed her against him, Emilia took a while to hear what he was saying, rather loudly.

“Why didn’t you pick up my fucking calls?! What the fuck did you do to your phone?!” He was yelling into her ear. Emilia winced at the volume, “Didn’t you realise I would be worried sick about you? I don’t even know what the fuck I would do if anything were to happen to you! What will I do then? What _can_ I do?!”

The smell was the first thing that came to her, after his shouting voice of course. Amber, cedar, musky perspiration, the stale air of an air cabin and the faint scent of cigarette smoke. Despite the latter two, more foreign, addition to his scent, Emilia could recognise his scent anywhere and, unwittingly, she eagerly nuzzled her nose closer to his warm skin. She took in a tentative breath only for a deeper breath to follow and she craved the next breath and the one after that-

His insistent kisses shifted her head from his chest to uncover her face. Before she could word a complaint or so much as pout in reluctance to be jostled from her increasingly comfortable spot, his full heart-shaped lips melded firmly against hers. He swallowed her surprised squeak and stole the sharp intake of breath she sorely needed as he claimed her lower lip so fiercely she was sure he had bruised it in that first instance. She could taste the cigarette on his breath.  

She returned his kisses in kind only to have her feet quite literally swept from under her; with his tender yet fierce kisses and his arms. He carried her so effortlessly when in the past he used to huff and complain endlessly when she requested to be picked up. His eagerness, however, never waned, even now. His lips never fully parting from hers, he kissed her thoroughly, all over her mouth before his kisses drifted, feather light, across her cheek and down to her neck.

He neither let her back down nor place her on the bed as she expected him to. Instead, he held her in his arms as he peppered her skin with kisses. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her skin tingled and heated up from the feel of the brushes of his soft lips and the way his beard grazed her skin. As he sucked particularly hard on the sensitive spot under her ear, where she liked to be kissed, she gasped and her fingers dug firmly into his muscled shoulder. He nuzzled her bathrobe aside with his bearded chin, as he kissed his way lower. A soft grunt of frustration left him as he realised his chin could only expose so much of her skin to him.

Then he proceeded to the bed. As he made his blind way over, he nuzzled his nose against her neck. His beard was scuffing her skin just the way she loved and Emilia knew it was no coincidence, he knew what she loved. _The cheeky wanker._ A soft sigh escaped her parted lips as she unwittingly cupped his cheek, holding him to her. She felt and heard him take a deep inhalation of her skin as he slowly lowered her to the bed. His nose remained stubbornly buried in the crook of her neck, his lips pressing small kisses to her skin, as he stood over her, his arms on either side of her thighs.

Her head felt incredibly heavy in comparison with how light her body felt like. She arched her neck, granting him access to the expanse of her neck as her hands eagerly caressed their way up his arms, over his shoulders. She leaned into him as her hands explored the plane of his back, feeling thick sinewy muscles tighten upon her light touch, before they came to his neck.

She wanted to see him.

She cradled his bearded cheek and gently pulled him from her neck. He obstinately refused. So she brought her head back against his and she nuzzled the side of her face against his, coaxing him from her. A low whimper of protest came from him even as he yielded to her coaxing. When he was finally at a reasonable distance so she could actually see his face, their eyes met for probably the first time for months.

She thought her heart must have simply stopped then as she took in the beautiful dark warm brown of his eyes. It was a common colour and yet, she could not find the exact same shade in another. She could always seem to see the way the eyes of others were a shade darker, a shade lighter or simply did not exude the same look in them.

His eyes, now, looked sad and they were wet and red-rimmed. He’s been crying. She wanted to kiss him over his eyelids and take away all his tears, but his intent gaze held her immobilised.  

“Kitten…” she whispered instead, “hullo,” she giggled weakly at the absurdity of the timing of her greeting. To her surprise, tears flooded into his dark eyes and he lowered his head as if to hide them. But she would not allow it. Her hands cradled his face stubbornly and a shuddering breath left his lips, tickling the inside of her wrists. Revelling in the feel of his beard against her palm, she allowed her thumbs to scuff it. Sheer happiness bubbled from her and slipped out in the form of giggles.  

His eyes darted up to meet hers once again when he heard her giggle. His tear-filled eyes darted between hers and over her face, as if he was convincing himself she was real. A moment passed before a gigantic sigh of relief deflated his body and his head toppled forward in seemingly sheer fatigue. For all the fatigue he felt, Kit’s forehead settled gently on hers.

“Hullo, Milly,” he whispered his reply, his voice barely audibly but at this proximity, she could feel his every breath on her lips.

They remained like so for a long time. Neither spoke nor attempted to shift away. With her forehead against his, Emilia nuzzled her nose against the side of his just so she could be that much closer than she already was. Since the time she met him, everything about this man pulled her in like no other ever had; the hesitation with which he held himself when he first saw her, the mischievous glint in his dark eyes, the beautiful mess of his curls, the sound of his voice and even the words he had uttered. And with the ever present kindness in his eyes and in his every action, the loving heart he has, the gentleness in his touch, she wanted to stay by his side.

Any moment he came close, she was at his mercy. Circumstances and worries all paled in comparison to him and being with him.

She revelled in his warmth, the feel of his skin against hers, the feel of sharing each breath with him as he drew them in time with her. His lips parted and she knew not from seeing but from feeling a soft exhalation from between them against her own lips.

Every nerve in her lips tingled and demanded all her attention in an instant. When his soft, warm and slightly moist lip touched hers, a shuddering breath escaped her. She was trembling in anticipation and yearning for his kiss.

Kit was painfully gentle, and so, slow as he took her plump lower lip and tasted it so thoroughly. It was so different from when he first kissed her at the door. When she felt his tongue, she widened her lips just enough to grant him access but his tongue lingered on her lips. He made a firm pass across her lower lip before darting to brush her tongue teasingly. She took in a sharp breath. Her tongue chased after him automatically but to her frustration, he withdrew from her mouth entirely.

“Clarke, I want to taste you,” he whispered, his lips moving against hers as he spoke. Her heart stuttered at his words. Before she could discipline her tongue, which was reduced to a soft blubbering mess upon a simple brush from his, to utter a reply, he ducked his head and she felt his tongue on her collarbone.

She arched her body closer to him as he brushed her skin with his lips and his tongue. With gentle fingers that barely touched her, he tugged away her bathrobe. She wore nothing underneath and as his tongue trailed a path down her cleavage, he paused upon that realisation. She felt Kit’s quickened, heated breath as his eyes rose to meet hers. The look in his eyes was incredibly familiar to her; one of insatiable want and a sort of desperate longing. The sight of it sent her heart into wild, almost worrying palpitation.  

_Kitten-_

She gasped when he tugged aside her bathrobe and took a harden peak of her left breast between his lips. He bit into it lightly before teasing, licking and sucking. Wetness pooled between her thighs and her nails dug into his arm, a wordless plea.  

Her entire body was throbbing and high-strung with raw desire as his mouth littered kisses, licks and nips across her breasts. He tilted his head up to look at her and she could only meet his gaze. His eyes darted between her eyes, looking to be searching for something. He seemed to find what he was looking for and his swollen lips curved into a small smile. His eyes softened as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, one hand cradling the back of her head. With that, he nudged her to lie back onto the bed.

Gazing up at him, she sank back into his arms. He lowered her gently as if he did so any quicker, he’d hurt her. She drank in the soft look in his, now, black eyes. As she settled on her back, he settled on his elbows, propped up over her. Chest to chest, she thought she could feel his heart speed up; or it could have been her own.

His curls fell forward into his eyes and she brought her hands up to try to brush them away but they were so long now they flopped back into his eyes. Eventually, she tucked them behind his ears. His small smile widened into a pleased one and he turned his head to kiss her palm. _Thank you._ His eyes and his lips said in unison. She instantly wished it was her lips he was kissing and not her palm.

Fuelled by mere desire, she craned her neck up towards him, craving a kiss. He met her halfway. With his arms still around her, he hugged her firmly to him as she tasted him as thoroughly as he did her. When her lips were extremely sensitive, swollen, bruised and her lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen, he slowly withdrew from her. She sucked in much needed air as he eagerly kissed his way down, cruelly robbing her of the air she had only just attained.

Each time he paused, nipping at her skin, she could feel the scuff of his beard before the alarming softness of his lips. He left behind flushed heated skin in his wake. She sighed in bliss, sinking back happily against the very same bed she spent her past nights tossing and turning in, blaming her lack of sleep on the lack of comfort it provided. She could hardly believe it is the very same bed-

His large meaty hands grasped the outside of both her thighs and despite the great effort required, she pulled her head from the bed and craned her neck to see him.

His fingers dug into her thighs before he stroked her, coaxing and teasing her. At first, she didn’t understand why he had stopped for he could’ve easily nudged her legs apart with his hands. Then she met his dark eager eyes and instantly saw a question in them.

He was seeking her permission.

His respectful pause as he waited for her explicit consent allowed her to gain some semblance of rational contemplation. Instead of contemplating her answer, one that was always the same one and was already there before he asked, she wondered why he had paused.

She has been experiencing some fear and more than a little trepidation with letting a man close to her again following the incident at New York because of the play. That trepidation made her avoid Cory’s advances and Jai’s explicit requests to take their relationship further. But from the moment Kit took her in his arms to this very moment; where she lay undressed under him as he waited for her approval to nestle himself between her legs, the feeling of trepidation never came to her mind or body.

In fact, she felt safe. She has never felt fear when she was with him; she simply didn’t recognise that feeling whenever he was around, much less when he looked at her so protectively or held her so securely.

But he couldn’t have known about what happened at New York and her recurring nightmares from that… _could he?_

She had probably gone quiet for too long and him, impatient, for he croaked, his voice hoarse, “please, I want to taste you… so bad…” he murmured.

His plea made her ache with an almost unbearable feeling of emptiness. Whatever she was considering was forgotten and wordlessly, she parted her legs, feeling the embarrassingly copious moisture that has gathered there, and continue to. Her bathrobe, with the tie already loosened as he had kissed his way down, fell to the side of her parted legs. His eyes fell and gazed at her with such intensity, her cheeks flushed but she didn’t want to look away from him. She wanted to memorise the look in his eyes as he looked at her; bare, in front of him.

His darkened eyes were staring unblinkingly between her legs, where she ached for him to fill. When his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, her breath hitched in her throat. It must have been audible for he glanced to her. She watched him lower himself so he lay on his stomach and very deliberately lace his arms under her thighs. His neck was reddening and she peered down, hoping to catch a glimpse of his arousal but he was still, frustratingly, fully clothed and so didn’t afford her much of a view. His hands settled on her hips, gripping her firmly but not so that she couldn’t move away if she wanted to.

She watched unblinkingly as he lowered his head to where she throbbed, gushed and ached for him. All the while, his eyes locked with hers. Her eyes fell from his eyes to his lips which disappeared behind her mould. When she felt his beard on the inside of her thigh, scuffing her so sweetly, she accidentally bucked sharply towards him.

He startled, blinking.

She understood his surprise. He has barely touched her.

She did not think it was possible but her cheeks burned more than they already did. He smiled then and she could only see it in the crinkle of his eyes for his mouth still hovered teasingly close to her arousal. He huffed a laugh and she gasped as she felt his breath on her. She was just short of grasping him by the roots of his curls and grinding herself onto his mouth. _Fucking prick._ She could’ve swore but with that amused twinkle in his eyes, he took a visible inhalation where he was situated and a lump formed in her throat as his eyes closed momentarily. He looked utterly satisfied.

“You smell so good,” he whispered, his breath teasing her.

Frustrated, she groaned out, “Kit,”

“Don’t move, Clarke,” he told her as he neared. She strove to comply but when she felt his tongue around her aching core, her hips bucked fiercely towards him. Instead of withdrawing, he kissed her thoroughly on her inner thighs and all over except where she wanted him the most.

“ _Kitten_ ,” she whimpered, feeling her wetness begin to trail its way down to the sheets. She glimpsed his eyes dart down and those onyx orbs hardened before he closed his eyes and she felt his tongue lap up her moisture quickly; beginning as far back as he can reach before trailing its eager way to her throbbing nub. She gasped with each sure swipe of his tongue, fighting the uncontrollable urge to buck or grind.

“You taste so good,” he groaned and she glimpsed his adam-apple bob on his flushed neck as he swallowed.

 _You taste so good._ He had told her before and the memory of it made her heart sing and stutter at the same time.

Another lick from him collected her back to the present. When he seemed to have lapped up all of which she had to offer at the moment, he pressed his mouth to her, sucking at her nub slowly but strongly. Starburst exploded across her eyes and despite her best efforts, a moan slipped from her lips. _He remembers..._ Between his lips, his tongue and his mouth, she was soon quivering and bucking more than he preferred, and she was moaning more than she preferred.

“Milly,” he growled when she bucked particularly hard. The reverberations as he spoke with his mouth on her made her unwittingly grind against his mouth. Another soft moan slipped from between her parted lips, from which she breathed when she could no longer get enough air through her nose. She felt his grin rather than saw it. But before she could snap at him, his hands gripped her hips firmly and he pressed his mouth to her. With him alternating between relentless sucking, licking and teasing, her legs began to tremble. As his firm tongue flicked against her for the thousandth time, she gazed down at him through heavy lidded eyes. Her eyes widened as she saw his hips shift and thrust against the bed in the background, in time with his tongue.

Upon a particular hard thrust, he groaned, the sound and the reverberations from it toppled her from her peak. Her back arched and a loud guttural moan left her lips. As her body trembled in almost agony, it unwittingly squirmed away, her legs closing.

But his firm hands held her legs apart as he took all of her into his warm mouth, eagerly taking in the product of the peak of her pleasure. As she trembled, her legs quivering helplessly, he moaned deeply, his mouth still on her. His eyes squeezed shut, his fingers of one hand digging firmly into her thigh and the other into her hip. _He came_.

The thought of him finding his pleasure simply from giving and witnessing hers was intoxicating and with trembling fingers, she reached for him. Her fingers brushed his cheek longingly before finding his thick head of curly locks. She gently grasped the roots of his hair, tugging playfully as he sagged against the mattress. Her quivering legs cradled his face between her thighs and she sighed happily at the feel of the beard on her inner thigh.

It wasn’t a moment before started licking at her languidly, his pace slowly but surely picking up and she knew then he wanted her to come, again. She groaned at the thought, her body dreading it but her heart yearned to be wherever Kitten wanted to bring her to. With his hands, he guided her legs over his shoulders so he could shift closer to her. His mouth worked relentlessly and as his finger plundered her sopping entrance while his tongue teased her swollen nub of nerves, for the second time, she cried her release. Her body bucked, feeling unlike her own as pleasure completely derailed her mind. For a second time, starburst exploded across her vision like she has been struck. Her fingers in his hair and her thighs around his head unwittingly tightened.

When the last of her release ebbed away, she sank, spent, back into bed.  Her legs, now completely useless, rested limp over his warm muscled back. She gazed down to see him already gazing at her. He was still on his stomach, his head still cradled by the inside of her thighs. Her cheeks warmed as he turned and pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin on her inner thigh before he nuzzled his cheek to it. As he rested his head on her thigh, his hands stroked their way down to her hip before they palmed her bottom, squeezing her.  

She could still feel herself throbbing and pulsing in the aftermath of her release. Evidently, it seemed visible for his eyes darted down and he pressed a soft but firm kiss to her folds, kissing his way to her now extremely sensitive nub. She was sure it would be flushed and swollen. She gasped when his lips sucked on it tentatively. She swallowed and muffled it as much as she can by biting her lips but to no avail.

His eyes darted up when he heard her gasp and a smug smile graced his lips as he leaned his cheek against her thigh. She could see the glean of her juices on his chin and on his beard. The sight of it sent a thrill through her and she lifted a hand weakly. Her fingers traced the curve of his cheek before it cleaned his chin and beard. He licked his lips of any remnants when he realised what she was doing and she swallowed a moan with great difficulty. Her breath hitched when he took her fingers and she could only stare, lips parted as he cleaned them thoroughly as he had cleaned her. His mouth was incredibly warm and soft around her fingers. With a sigh, she laced her, now-clean fingers, with his.

Her hand automatically found its spot in his, their fingers nuzzled snugly with and around the other’s. Despite how different their hands were (hers were embarrassingly red, flushed), she found it hard to see where his hand ended and where hers began. By his hand, she tugged him to her. With that and a mere look into her eyes, he needn’t words to know what she wanted. He obliged, getting up onto his knees as she parted her legs further to allow him. He got up but not before kissing her knee firmly. Then he followed the tug of her hand to lie beside her on the bed.

When he sank into it heavily, his eyes never leaving her face, she rolled onto her side. Without thinking of anything beyond loving him as he had loved her, she unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans. He was, alarmingly, still firm and she carefully undid the zipper. Pulling aside his jeans just enough, her guess earlier was confirmed by his sodden pants. She glanced to see him still gazing at her unblinkingly. His cheeks were slightly flushed and he looked embarrassed, but not enough to look away.

She felt an amused smile spread across her face and his eyes darted down to her lips before he, too, smiled. He ducked his head to her as she craned her neck up to meet his lips. As they sighed happily, simultaneously, against each other’s lips, they both paused before bursting into laughter.

Laughter shook their bodies against the other and she revelled in the feel of it; his happiness so tangible in this moment. As they kissed, she found and grasped his hard length. She has barely begun stroking but he groaned, long and deep, into their kiss, his length twitching eagerly in her warm hand. _It is going to be a very long night…_

* * *

And it was.

Three times, he came inside her after that first one that happened in his pants while he thrusted against the mattress. And she has lost count how many times she came; she wasn’t keeping count of that. How could she when she was revelling in the way he looked, the look in his eyes, the way his arms held her and number of times he spurted into her each time he peaked.

They haven’t been together like this for-

 _A long time_.

The last time being years ago. She didn’t even dare to dream that they could be together in this way again after what happened; with Rose. Emilia knew, from Rose that she had broken Kit’s heart and after that, she has found herself wondering if they could still be friends; Kit and her. Rose has made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with her after all.

So, seeing Kit at her door after so long, was a shock to say the least. Then for him to sweep her off her feet by kissing her like that… Emilia thought it was hardly fair. She was simply too surprised to resist, not that she would. Her cheeks warmed as she recalled his kisses.

As she made love to him, she could see the pain as he looked adoringly at her. The sight of it broke her. The sight that she has hurt the man she loved the most, even if she didn’t mean to. So she spent the rest of the night putting him back together as best as she could. Slowly but surely, she could see the pain leaving his eyes; she could see Kitten was happier. He looked a little more like _her_ Kitten. If only for that moment.

She smiled as she recalled his laugh, mixed with her giggles, as her sudden gush of wetness made him slip out of her on a hard thrust. He had dove down to kiss her as he quickly rectified the situation. At the memory of how it felt to have him in her and moving so languidly like he didn’t want the night to end, Emilia nuzzled closer to his warm frame. She peered up at him.

Kit was sound asleep; completely out cold after his fourth orgasm of the night. But before that, he garnered the last of his strength and consciousness to pull her to his side, cradling her trembling, limp body against his. With her breasts against his ribs, her thighs straddling his leg, his arms around her, Emilia felt more comfortable in this bed than she has ever felt since she started filming, or in her own bed at home for that matter.

But she didn’t sleep, she didn’t want to.

Gazing at his face, Emilia would instead, traced the same path over his face that ended at his lips, with her eyes. When she dared, knowing he wouldn’t stir, she would nuzzle her temple against his beard. She’d then nuzzle her cheek against his breast, gently brushing the fine hairs on his bare chest with her fingers as she listened to his snores. Some particularly louder snores made her giggle so hard she almost suffocated herself while trying to stifle the sound of it. Her fingers fluttered over his abs, which he was always so proud of. She loved them as much as she loved the rest of him but always not particularly; she preferred his voice, his eyes, his hair, his hands, his lips, his heart… Over his lower abdomen, she would then follow the trail of rough hairs lower. When the trail got meaningfully thicker, she would stop herself from going lower with great difficulty.

She did not want to wake him. From the look of his heavy, dark eye circles, he could use the sleep.

Then she would repeat it.

Again pausing at the crown of thick rough hairs low on his abdomen, Emilia allowed her pinky to brush the head of him. He was soft, warm and felt incredibly smooth. She marvelled and wished it wasn’t just her hand feeling him-

She _wanted_ him, _still._ Her face flushed, embarrassed but her hand wandered lower all the same. She imagined he was probably very sensitive still but she could not get the recollection of the sensation of him filling her, and spilling into her, out of her head.

 _You are insatiable!_ Kitten has said to her more than once, always sounding a strange mix between frustrated and deep adoration. And she was. _For him._

She wanted him. She has always wanted him. She would always want him. 

But she knew she cannot keep him for she has hurt him, countless times and unimaginably deeply. From the time she chose to push him away and after… _Seth, Cory and Jai…_

If he would forgive her, she was not sure if she could forgive herself. _Some things you just can’t go back on…_ She has hurt him deeply and she knew she will again, inevitably. _How do people do this? How do they love someone so deeply and have the courage to be with them and so, always risk hurting that person? And risk losing that person?_

Gazing at him, sleeping so deeply and peacefully, Emilia felt tears fill her eyes. She has never felt this way for the boys that she had thought she loved. Only now, she realised she probably didn’t love the other boys all that much. Only now, she realised she probably has only ever loved one man.

_And I cannot keep him but- Jesus… I want to. I **really** want him. _

“Kitten…” she whispered quietly, at lost of what to say even while he was sleeping. _What can I say?_ Her hand brushed his hips as it trailed its way to his rib. She hugged him to her possessively, desperately. She knew, from the time she has known Rose, that Rose would do a better job than she can. Rose would never choose her work over him, she would never be too friendly with other men with how proper and mindful of her limits she always was, she would never unknowingly hurt him, she would never stand by and see him hurt without doing something to help or protect him. Emilia knew in her heart she has done and will do all of those things Rose would never. Rose would fight for him. Rose would always choose him and put him first. Her, on the other hand… “I’m sorry…” she said thickly, “I’m sorry I’m not brave enough and not good enough… to have you, to keep you, and protect you,”  

She brushed his curls from his face with the tips of her fingers, “you deserve so much more than me,” _and now you have so much more than me…_ tears flooded over her cheeks as she memorised his lovely face, “but I do love you… I have always and will always love you,” she tucked his hair behind his ear like how he always does for himself. He liked it out of his face, “I promise,”

A loud ringing of her phone startled her and she flew from him to grab her phone from the charging wire.

She stared at her phone. **Rose.**

A million things were running through her mind but at the forefront, Emilia wondered why Rose was calling her. Rose was the last person she would expect. Swallowing, Emilia picked up but stayed silent. She didn’t know what to say. _What can you say to someone you have let down, apart from an apology you already said but was hardly enough?_

“Emilia,” Rose’s voice was clipped as she greeted; formal.

“Rose,” Emilia’s own voice was hoarse from the lack of use aside from groaning and moaning, so she cleared her throat as subtly as she could, “how can I help-“

“Is Kit there?”

Her breath hitched and Emilia stiffened. _What have we done?_ Her stomach lurched and Emilia suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. Rose had never even crossed Emilia’s mind as all of her was fixated on the one person she saw; he very well could be the only person in this world to her in those moments.

Her silence was telling as Rose said, a dangerous edge to her calm voice, “I want to speak to him,”

Emilia nodded and lowered her phone. As she turned to him, ready to wake him, she froze.

His eyes were open and gazing at her. The look in them was guarded like Emilia has never seen. And he looked unimaginably tired. She didn’t know what to tell him but as usual, she needn’t say anything. She glimpsed his jaw stiffen before he opened his hand to her, silently requesting for her phone. She stared at him, wondering what he would do before she slipped the phone into his hand.

Part of Emilia wished Kit would just hang up and fold her against his side again but she knew it was wishful thinking. She watched Kit press her phone to his ear. Glancing to her, Kit stood from the bed and paced away. Emilia could not even find the humour in the situation at seeing Kit’s bare bottom. _He never did like wearing pants anyway._

“Rose,”

She heard him say.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” Kit spoke in a low tone, trying to be quiet but it was for naught. It was the early hours of dawn and it was deathly quiet, “yeah, I’m heading over now. See you,” a beat, “love you too,”

Her heart dropped and Emilia fisted the vacant sheets, trying to stem her tears that prickled her eyes. She blinked hard as he hung up the phone and turned to her.

“I- um-“ he began and she knew what he would say. Emilia could not look at him as he cleared his throat and continued, “I have to go,” with that, he gathered and put on his clothes that were strewn across the floor. Emilia could not find her voice as she heard him go about her room. She couldn’t look at him either.

But when he sank into the edge of the mattress and hunched over, presumably to wear his shoes, reality hit her then. _He is leaving._

She turned to gaze at the back of his head, all the while praying he would turn and spare her even a look. _Just one look, before you go_. That’s all she asked.

He stood from the mattress, his back still to her, and Emilia croaked out, “I’ll call a taxi for you?”

_“I’ll call a taxi for you?”_

He had offered her the same, years ago. Kit’s shoulders stiffened and Emilia knew he remembers.

_She heard him making the call. When he hung up, he said, “they’ll be here in 10,” Dread filled her and Emilia nodded as she zipped her bag shut. She straightened and taking a subtle breath, she turned to face him with a smile._

_He wasn’t smiling as he gazed straight at her, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Emilia glanced over him properly to see that he wore a tight fitting shirt over his muscled torso and tight black jeans. Feeling an overwhelming urge to feel those strong familiar arms around her as she rested her head on his chest to listen to his steady heart, Emilia swallowed._ I can’t stay here… _She realised. Blinking, she turned and picked up her bag._

 _“They’ll be here in 10,” he repeated._ Stay. _He might as well have said. And if he did, Emilia just might._

_“I’ll wait in the lobby, wouldn’t be nice to keep him waiting,”_

_Panic flashed visibly across his face as he took two hasty steps to her, instantly closing the much-needed distance between them, “they’ll be here in 10…” he muttered, his eyes never leaving her._

_Steeling herself, she tilted her face up to meet his gaze, “exactly, 10 minutes. It’s not that long a wait. In the lobby,”_

_He glanced between her eyes and she knew he’d see the resolve there and relent to what she was insisting. Emilia saw his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. The rim of his eyes begin to redden and Emilia looked away hurriedly then but she felt tears sting her eyes nevertheless at the sight of his palpable pain. She glimpsed him reach for her bag in her hand then and panicking that he’d stop her like this, Emilia tilted her bag away from him, “I’ll help you with it,” he muttered an explanation, “I’ll walk you down to the lobby,” he croaked._

_“No it’s fine, thank you,” she managed. Emilia was almost proud of how steady her voice sounded, not at all telling of the turmoil within. Blinking her tears away, she willed herself to be strong and not to cry. She met his eyes. He looked resigned but there was an undeniable pained look in them and every inch of her strained to do whatever it took to soothe his pain, to make him smile, to make him laugh; to see that he was happy. Her free hand cupped his cheek. As she caressed him, she watched his lips curve into a small, easy smile. His wet brown eyes fluttered close and he leaned into her touch._

_She smiled weakly and willed herself to lower her hand but couldn’t, not while he was smiling like that; looking so happy and content. He seemed to know that she wouldn’t pull away, not yet. She watched, almost painfully, as he got bolder and nuzzled his cheek into her palm, letting his beard scuff her hand. Her heart stuttered at the sensation._

Time to go.

_Her smile faded and reluctantly, she dropped her hand from his face. Strangely, Emilia felt she lost a part of herself as she tore her touch from him. His eyes flew open and his smile faded instantly. He looked almost scared, desperate, as he glanced over her face and his lips parted._

_Not wanting him to speak and waver her resolve or cause them more pain, Emilia flattened her palm onto his chest and got onto her tip toes. It worked and his lips pressed together, silenced as she neared. He tensed and stood completely still as she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. She hadn’t meant to linger, this time truly but Kit leaned into her; his temple against her forehead. With her nose against his cheek like this, she could smell the scent of his bath soap on his skin. It was so familiar. She opened her eyes. His eyes were closed, his brows lifted in evident distress, fear._

_She felt tears sting her eyes but she held them at bay, gulping, “bye,” she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek._

“I’ll wait for one in the lobby,” Kit said evenly, snapping her back to the present. She felt his words straight in her chest and only then did she understood how much she has hurt him; the very person she loved, so much, “bye, Clarke,”

She watched him leave through a blur of her tears. A hand over her mouth, she muffled her sobs. She heard his footsteps recede down the hallway until she could no longer hear him. She had sank back into bed then, tugging the duvet over her naked form. Nestling her face into the pillow, onto which his scent clung, she blinked away her tears for a moment of clarity to see her newly embellished finger.

 

 _"_ _Are you sure?” Emilia could only stare at her pinky where she wanted it as the tattoo artist asked her, doubtfully, “it’ll probably look like a decorative scar after a few years and you will barely be able to see it,”_ No one has to see it, only I have to know it is there. That will be enough. _She had thought then, “and you can’t touch it up either…”_

_“It’s fine,” Emilia interrupted and forced a smile at the tattoo artist. She just wanted it there. It already felt real enough to her._

_He only frowned but he picked up the needle nevertheless, “and I have to warn you, it’s not like a regular black tattoo because the needle has to be inserted deeper than usual,”_ perfectly apt. _She had thought,_ _“so that the ink sits perfectly and it’ll take multiple passes to get the white ink to show up,”_

_“Do what you have to do,” Emilia whispered._

_“Alright…” the tattoo artist murmured and Emilia placed her right hand on the table, “here?” he pointed to her pinky. She nodded mutely. As the needle broke her skin, she barely flinched for this was merely a fraction of the constant ache she felt in her chest that blossomed upon even the merest thought of him. This pain was a relief, truth be told, to finally feel actual pain even if it didn’t measure up to what she really felt, “why on the pinky?”_

_When Emilia realised the question wasn’t rhetorical or merely a tease and he was expecting an answer, she replied trying to sound cheeky as she forced a smile, “it’s a promise. So nothing like a pinky promise to seal the deal…”_

_The tattoo artist laughed, “very creative,” She wished he would be quiet, for once when she usually enjoyed conversations. Emilia knew he was probably talking to get her mind off the pain but he really needn’t do it. In fact, she very much wanted to feel this pain and wanted to be left alone to revel in it, “and white? Is it a secret?”_

_Emilia pursed her lips and did a half-lie because she couldn’t completely lie, “kind of,” she added then, “my mother wouldn’t like it very much,”_

_“Nor will she like a secret love,” he teased._

_Emilia did not reply as she watched him work and thankfully, he got the hint._

_She watched her skin redden and bled some with each deep prick of the needle as the tattoo gradually formed; a true lover’s knot. One piece of it intertwined around the other. Just like how she knew and has accepted that she will revolve around and yet be completely inseparable from another. Forever._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a quick note about Emilia's tattoo: first seen at SAG awards 2015 (January) and not in early 2014 so... I made up the rest :) 
> 
> Sorry this chapter took so long... it is one of the longest I ever wrote (and kept in one chapter) so you probably get why. That and writer's block because Emilia is soooooo complicated to write. Hope this chapter is not confusing in any way (if it is, just leave a comment and me or the other readers can discuss it:) )  
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this despite the angst!  
> Please leave me a comment and let me know what you all think about this chapter! What was your favourite part? 
> 
> Also, I do read all the comments you guys left (you guys are amazing!!) but writing has taken up all my time. I WILL go back and reply to them since I will be taking a break from writing for the rest of this week :) so please bear with my awkward, late replies!


	16. The Vote

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll never talk about any particular relationship I've been in. But I will say I'm single at the moment. Relationships as an actor are incredibly difficult. With someone who's not an actor, because they never get to see you; and with someone who is an actor, because you're ships in the night a lot of the time. I mean, ideally, if you keep acting in the film world, you're a travelling salesman. And your options are: sacrifice a lot of your career, to make sure it's not unfair on the other person, or find someone who is willing to be your travelling circus. That's where I stand, and I'm trying to address it at the moment. [When asked if he's happy, there was a period of silence before he says yes] I'm happy. I'm in a comfortable place. But I have to actively remember to recognise that a lot of the time.  
> \- Kit Harington (GQ UK, 9 Jan 2015) 
> 
> [Asked whether he has a girlfriend] No I don’t… your research is like three months old.   
> \- Jai Courtney (KIIS 1065’s Kyle and Jackie O Show, June 2015) 
> 
> Emilia admits her nomadic existence makes romantic relationships ‘absolutely impossible’.   
> \- Emilia Clarke, Marie Claire UK (June 2015)

_San Francisco, 23 rd March 2015_

**Emilia**

He looked troubled.

It was the first thing she noticed from across the room. The next thing she noticed was how good he looked despite the furrow between his brows. His cheeks both held a healthy, lovely pink colour and the bags under his eyes were no longer there. It could be the make-up but Emilia thought and hoped otherwise. His beard looked properly trimmed and his hair looked slightly shorter, and neater, as well. Just from looking at him, she knew he took the time to be made-up for tonight. She took in the way his hair curled, tickling the nape of his neck and her heart sped up at the memory of the feel of his soft curls in her hands. He was wearing a black pressed suit and a grey shirt, matching the look with a darker grey tie. He was honestly looking very _pretty_ tonight.

She felt a familiar flutter in her gut then, as she always felt when she saw him. She wanted to go to him to tease him, to talk to him, even for a little while.  

As Emilia was deliberating between crossing the room very obviously to make her way to him or to subtly talk her way over, he glanced over. His eyes skimmed the room and skimmed right over her. The disappointment was palpable but she did spent a good part of her make-up routine preparing herself for not being able to speak to him. Why would he want to speak to her? He sure didn’t want to the last time they met-

He did a double take. When his dark eyes found her again, he stared. His face was unreadable.

She could not look away in time and froze, suddenly very much aware she probably wasn’t half as radiant as he was. Her eye-bags were terrible and the make-up artist did what she could to cover how dark they were but there was only so much she could do with them hanging heavily under her eyes.

Her lips parted and she was just short of mouthing a tease to him from across the room, desperate to dispense the awkwardness, when Kit broke their eye contact. She watched helplessly as he turned from her and disappeared into the crowd. When he was out of sight, she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and sipped quietly at the glass of red wine in her hand. _So that’s what we are now, Kitten._

She felt a pit of emptiness in her stomach grow painfully deeper, as if she has lost a part of herself. Tears pricked her eyes and Emilia frantically blinked it away, all while she tried to slip into the background of cast and crew members happily catching up with each other. She then muttered a quick prayer that she would not be spoken to at least until she has managed to collect herself.

“May I swear my sword to my Queen?” a quiet, hoarse voice broke into her small silent bubble. It was a familiar voice, which belonged to the one person whose intrusion was very much welcomed in this moment; or in any moment really.

When she dared to look up, and risk destroying the thin, frail hope she still harboured, there he was. Kit stood beside her. His dark eyes twinkled mischievously, his lips were pursed against a smile but she could still see the obvious signs of the presence of a smile. The edges of his eyes were crinkled and the corner of his lips dimpled. Up close, she could see the little mole on his lips. That and his little, baby, widow peak. She thought he looked beautiful.

It took Emilia another whole moment to notice that in his large hands, he cradled a small chocolate sword that lay horizontal across his hands. His hands were already larger than usual. Now, cradling that tiny chocolate sword, he looked absolutely comical and she burst into loud, less than lady-like giggles.

“What?” Kit blinked, a picture of a knight swearing his sword. _A beautiful picture…_ “don’t tell me you expect me to get on my knees-“

“I expect exactly that. _Kneel_ ,” Emilia managed firmly, regal, as she stifled her giggles with great effort.

Kit glanced around them before a smirk crossed his face. Without missing a beat, he dropped to one knee.

Emilia squeaked in surprise as she dove to hold his elbows to drag him back to his feet, “you’re fucking crazy!” she hissed as her cheeks burned. Kit was looking equally amused as those around them. He then glanced down to his hand and nodded expectantly to it, “oh fine, _prick_ ,” she giggled as she plucked the little chocolate sword from his palm.

He feigned a wince, “and my Queen has gone ahead to bestow a name-“

“Fuck you,” she giggled loudly, turning heads to her own embarrassment.

“Hullo to you too,” Kit replied smoothly and as she automatically opened her arms to him for a hug hello, Kit’s arms opened to her. Time slowed down for Emilia as she spent those precious few seconds in his arms. She felt everything; his large warm hands on her shoulder and on the small of her back, the firm squeeze of his arms, his bearded cheek against the side of her face, the way his curls tickled her face and arm, the warmth of his neck on her arm. Then it was over all too soon when Kit withdrew. She did not fail to notice that he has kept a respectable distance between their bodies for their hug when in the not-too-distant past, he would crush her against him as if in this way, they could be one, “how have you been?”

“Good… you?” she glanced over him, a feigned cursory glance when she hungrily took in how good he looked.

“Good as well,” his reply was quiet.

Then she spotted a mark on his left hand. She chortled, “are you a child?” she took his hand in hers, showing him his finger, stained with a marker that he had probably used for signing autographs.

Kit grumbled, “I got bumped. The fucking thing is permanent. I tried washing it off…”   

Emilia rolled her eyes, “well, the fans wouldn’t possibly ask for your signature with a non-permanent marker,” her fingers absently rubbing at the mark in her attempt to get it off him.

“Shut up,” Kit sulked as he gazed at her attempt. Her furious, determined attempt slowed to a caress when Emilia was suddenly aware of the heat from his hand and the feel of his skin under her fingers. She gazed down, trying to memorise the veins on the back of it. She thought she could feel his heartbeat quicken in the throb of his vein.

Blinking when she realised she has held his hand, and for far too long, she let him go abruptly, “fucking child…” she snapped, harsh.

As usual, Kit wasn’t fazed, “I’m not the one clutching a chocolate sword,” he teased.

“Fuck off,” reminded of it now, she chewed off the tip of the chocolate sword and Emilia found herself taking another bite after the first, thoroughly enjoying the way the chocolate melted on her tongue and the way it warmed her stomach. She was completely absorbed in eating and before she knew it, she has devoured the chocolate. She hadn’t even realised how hungry she was.

As she gazed up at Kit in awe at how attuned to her needs he was, she realised he wasn’t even looking at her. She watched as he waved at Alfie and he joined them. She felt a stutter in her heart as the moment she had alone with him ended rather abruptly. Watching him talk animatedly to Alfie, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something felt different with Kit.

As Alfie slipped away to talk to David and Dan, Emilia licked her lips and spoke, “Kitten,” she blurted before putting any real thought of how she should address him but Kit turned to her, rewarding her with the biggest and most comical eye-roll at the sound of the nickname she coined for him. She giggled before stifling it and asking, concerned, “is something the matter?”

Kit frowned in confusion, which abated when Emilia glanced to David and Dan meaningfully. Kit was speaking to them before the furrows had formed between his brows and his lips looked permanently turned down. He was happy before that, “oh…” Kit sighed. Emilia bit her tongue and waited, knowing Kit was merely wondering how best to tell her rather than wanting to keep it from her. Kit let out another sigh before he said with a weak smile, “it’s Rose-“ Emilia’s breath hitched but she stilled, schooling her face to that of a calm curiosity, “she has been…upset at me. She…um…she RSVP-ed to this premiere with a partner.” Emilia saw the pain in Kit’s eyes as he told her and she instantly felt it in her chest along with an urge to soothe his pain.

When she realised Kit was expecting a reply, Emilia said quickly. She kept her tone light, “jealous Kitten,” Emilia teased, and the edge of Kit’s lips twitched up, “it’s probably nothing-“

“She specifically stated ‘partner’,” Kit replied, stoic but Emilia could see he was anything but.

For that moment, gazing at how upset he evidently was, Emilia pushed away the ache she felt at what his reaction to Rose having another partner meant; what it meant for how Kit felt towards Rose. Desperate to ease his evident bitterness, she rolled her eyes magnificently, “where are they? Rose and her so-called ‘partner’,” glancing about in feign haughtiness.

Emilia managed to coax a weak smile from him at her dramatic eye-roll and she cheered internally. That is until Kit murmured, “David and Dan withdrew her invitation, not wanting her to cause a scene here and take the spotlight off the show. They were just explaining it to me… in case I took offense to what they did…” Kit laughed, a dry laugh, “imagine that, me being offended that they just saved my sorry arse from being embarrassed in front of the press at the premiere of my own show-“

Kit was getting riled up and properly upset. Emilia touched his arm gently, wanting to soothe him so badly, “maybe it’s not like that…” Emilia said weakly. Kit quietened down, glancing down to her hand on his arm and Emilia hurriedly removed it, but not before stealing a last brush with the tips of her fingers, “maybe it’s a misunderstanding-“

Kit’s eyes softened, “I know you’re close to her,” Emilia bit her tongue, “but it doesn’t matter,” Kit forced a smile, “we have other issues to sort out anyway,” his eyes lingered on her as he said. Emilia frowned, wondering what those issues are but before she can ask him, Kit asked, “how are you?” his smile got too wide then and with the sight of him forcing his own happiness like that, Emilia felt her throat tighten. _He deserves every happiness in this world… and not having to fake it,_ “with Jai, I heard.” Kit smirked, teasing her while looking all too pleased with himself.

 _Heard…from who?_ Emilia wondered but replied him quietly, all the while forcing herself to hold his gaze, “I’m not with anyone,” Kit raised a brow, “we broke up,” she said, surprising herself when saying it aloud did nothing to her. Not even a twinge.

Kit’s expression was unchanging as she told him, apart from the hardened look in his previously liquid eyes, “what happened? Did he hurt you?” his tone was low, telling of the underlying threat.

“No,” Emilia said. _Oh sweet Kitten… I hurt him I think._ She laughed a weak laugh then, “you know me, terrible with distance and texting…” Kit forced a half-smile and she explained, “he’s Australian…” her voice trailed off then, realising how unasked for her explanation was.

Silence descended as Kit glanced between her eyes for a moment. Then he snorted, “for fuck’s sake Clarke. Keep them boys British then,”

Emilia laughed, gaining comfort on grounds of him taking the piss out of her, “wouldn’t help,” she didn’t know what came over her but she held his gaze confidently as she told him, “I couldn’t keep British boys either,” _even the best one I have ever done…_ she told him with her eyes, a language she knew her only other half in this world would understand, with perfect clarity.

Kit paused and she glimpsed him swallow, his adam-apple bobbing before he blinked and snorted, “and as your best mate-“ Emilia felt her eyes sting, “and as a man, I think it is my responsibility to tell you to stop breaking hearts for fuck’s sake,” she could’ve sworn his voice thickened.

She chuckled, determined to hold his gaze as she said, “I don’t mean to. You know I don’t,” _I’m sorry Kitten, if I hurt you,_ “I’m sor-“

Kit turned away, “who am I fucking kidding, lecturing you when I can’t even take my own advice,” Kit scoffed bitterly.

She frowned, “what’s gone wrong?”

He met her eye, “I hurt Rose,” before she can say a word, Kit continued hastily, “I know, I know. Don’t be a dick,” he smiled weakly at her, “I hear you saying it more than I should to be considered psychologically healthy but…I am honestly trying to make this work with her…you’re always going on and on about how amazing she is,” Emilia ignored the wedge he had just jammed down her throat but Kit didn’t notice, he wasn’t even looking as he ranted, “it’s just- it’s so fucking hard, Clarke, with work, and events and…fucking hell. I mean she’s a champ most of the time, understanding… you know her, always thinking for me and she’s much better at texting and calling than I am… but…” he sighed and Emilia thought he looked decades older than he was as with his hung head, his perfectly haphazard curls fell out of place.

Resisting the urge to brush a lock of his curl out of his forehead, Emilia nodded empathetically, “Relationships for actors are a bitch,”

Kit paused. He looked up and when their eyes met, Kit burst out laughing; deep guffaws that shook his broad frame. She smiled upon the sight of his smile; genuine, tear-inducing. _At least I can still do this one thing for you; make you laugh, make you happy, even for a moment._

“Excuse me, would you two like a photo together?” they turned to see the HBO event photographer holding the camera.

They glanced to the other before nodding. Kit opened his arm to her and Emilia came to his side. _It has been a while…_ Emilia thought as she glanced to see a, very slight, smile on his brooding visage. _Look at you… learning to smile for the camera._ Emilia swallowed her tease and smiled for the camera.

“Smile!” the photographer cheered. The flash went off, momentarily blinding her.

_“1…2…3, smile!” She had practically ordered him to and she watched him purse his lips stubbornly against one as he shook his head at her. But nonetheless, he forced a smile for the camera and she, and probably everyone else, can see that. Displeased with how it turned out, Emilia tried to take another photo._

_But it was then the phone screen blacked out. She panicked, wondering how she will compensate this lady for destroying her phone simply by touching it, “I don’t-“_

_The phone came back on._

_“Oh wait, it’s fine now!” Emilia did a little cheer to herself, letting out a subtle breath of relief. When she positioned the phone to take another photo, Kit was chuckling in amusement; at her. But it didn’t matter, the sight of his smile stole her breath away and Emilia quickly snapped the photo just as his dark eyes, moist from taking a kip on the flight, twinkled in evident happiness. Emilia glanced at the photo, finding herself wishing she had a photo of him looking like that, “here you go,” she returned the lady her phone, “have a look!”_

_As the woman thanked them and headed off, Kit was glancing about at the people around them who are now looking curiously at him. It was obvious to her he minded the attention; or rather, with how much he loved attention, he was probably just caught off guard._ My talented, sweet, beautiful Kitten. _Emilia thought as she gazed up at him, her chest swelling with pride so much so she thought she’d burst from it. Despite how knackered she was from the flight, Emilia felt a wide grin plaster itself on her face and energy filled all of her 5 foot 2 frame._

“One more,” the photographer said from behind his lens.

The flash left little starburst exploding across her vision.

“Thank you,” the photographer grinned as they chorused to him and he went away to take more photos.

Emilia turned, smiling, to him, eager to continue the conversation but Kit mumbled, “I’ll go get some drinks. Do you want anything?” he glanced to the drink station.

She shook her head but he wasn’t looking so she added, “no thank you,” he barely turned to her as he nodded distractedly. Without another word, he shuffled off, rather quickly in Emilia’s opinion. With him, he took her smile.

It occurred to her then what was missing from Kit the whole time; it was his constant gaze on her that she missed. It was the love he had for her.

She could no longer see or feel it and it felt like she was missing a limb.

 

_April 2015, Donmar Warehouse, Covent Garden, London._

**Kit**

He was nervous. 

“Fucking hell, Kit,” Kit muttered angrily to himself, “it’s just a small part,”

And it was. Just a small part in a play: the Vote. He would definitely not be remembered in this or even recognised. Hell, his name wasn’t even in the poster and he merely had a few lines. Needless to say, he wasn’t even offered tickets to invite his friends or family. He had heard he could have asked for them but at the thought of the possibility of the stage manager squinting at him and demand what part he even played in the production, Kit decided not to ask. He did not want to invite his family or best mates anyway, because of how small his part was.

And Rose…Kit had never invited her outright. She had asked about his play he was rehearsing for and he told her that his play was happening these 2 weeks, just before the election. Rose had replied that she would be preparing to start principal photography on one of her films. With that, Kit had resigned himself to the fact that no one he knew would be watching. And yet, Kit found himself, now, sitting and wringing his fingers.

“What’s the worse that could happen?” Kit whispered, “you’ll embarrass yourself in front of an audience of strangers. After this play ends, you can pretend it never happened. No one would remember this-“

“Kit,”

Kit bolted upright, right out of his seat.

The stage manager, Josh, chuckled, “woah, calm down there mate. You nervous?”

 _Of course I am fucking nervous, this is my first theatre role in 5 fucking years._ Kit forced a smile, shaking his head and asked, “nah,” he shrugged, “just didn’t expect anyone,” Josh raised a brow and glanced around. They were in a dressing room with the others, “to ask for me. Anyway, what’s going on?” Kit asked, feigning nonchalance when his mind has already gone through scenarios of the stage manager informing him that his role has been taken out last minute due to time constraint-

“Well,” the stage manager smiled, “someone handed our usher this, for you,”

Kit looked down.

A smile graced his lips automatically at the sight of his favourite comfort snack and he took it.

Kit noticed a small post-it. It read: _For luck. Love, your biggest fan_.

He stared at the way the person signed off, as if the handwriting wasn’t telling enough.

_“She recognised you!” Emilia enthused beside him, practically bouncing as she walked, in her excitement, “I knew you were amazing on War Horse, despite what you keep telling me,” she rolled her eyes, “I mean she remembers you from last year! I wish I have seen it!” she complained._

_Kit chuckled, “I was genuinely not that good, Milly. I was literally still in school at that time,”_

_Emilia looked at him as if he was dull, “and despite that, you managed to put up an amazing performance, making such a good lasting impression that a fan recognises you, with a beard and longer hair, a year on!” then she muttered, adding quickly, “she probably has a crush on you too,”_

_Kit raised a brow, “jealous?” he teased._

_She pursed her lips, shaking her head. Then her eyes softened as she told him, “I’m so proud of you, Kitten,” Kit could hear she meant it and he felt some pride for himself beginning to swell in his chest. He smiled at her appreciatively. Emilia added then, “besides, why would I be jealous when **I** am your biggest fan?” _

_He smirked then, “doubt it,”_

_“Hey!” Emilia snapped, “I even have a picture to prove it!” Kit chuckled, knowing she was referring to the one they took back in October, in Belfast at a restaurant. Kit had to admit then, if she was a fan, she would be the first ever to ask for a picture with him._

Even as Kit stared at the loopy, hasty scribe, he daren’t believe what the facts were telling him. Kit carefully opened the packet of Haribo and dug into the snack. It tasted exactly as he remembered. A strange calm washed over him and he wondered: _could she be here tonight? What if I muck it up if front of her-_

 _“Rubbish, I’m sure you were amazing! Are you going to take up theatre again?”_ _Emilia asked, her eyes twinkling._

_“I’ve always loved theatre so I’ll definitely take it up when an opportunity comes knocking,” Kit replied, “if and when they don’t mind me completely mucking it up and losing all their audiences,”_

_Emilia shook her head, “they won’t lose all of them, I’ll watch it! Every night if it means you get an audience,”_

_He laughed, “now you’re being silly, you’ll bore yourself to tears-“_

_“No I won’t,” she grinned, “I’ll watch whatever you’re in. Even if you’re going to be a rock, on a riverside. You’re my champion,” they laughed about it, “it’s a deal, Harington,”_

For the first time in months, Kit allowed himself to feel what the memories of her stirred in him. He needed it now; to feel like he was worth something to someone, to know there was someone who was supporting him and believing in him when he couldn’t believe in himself. Gazing down at the open packet of Haribo, already half eaten, Kit wondered if that was what was making him nervous all this while; feeling like he was not good enough or worth a damn to act in front of a live audience again. It has been a while since he did so after all.

With a newly founded acceptance for feeling nervous, Kit spent the rest of time chewing deliberately on each little piece while waiting for the play to begin. With his hands busy, he stopped wringing them and he has stopped bouncing his leg on the ball of his feet. When they were cued that it was beginning, Kit rehearsed his lines in his head while finishing up the large packet of Haribo.

When Kit stepped on the stage that day for his 3 minutes of fame to recite his few lines, despite the very real possibility he could completely muck up, Kit resolved to enjoy himself. He relished the spotlight, the hushed silence of hundreds in the theatre and feel of slipping into the skin of his character in front of the masses. And through it all, Kit felt a champion; the champion of at least one person in the audience, the one person who wouldn’t think any less of him even if he fucked up.

_She’d probably tease me for the rest of my life. Though I think I can live with that._

* * *

 

On cue, Kit took the hand of his fellow supporting cast members and approached the mark to bow to the audience. He squinted against the spotlight to look out into the dark theatre. A handful of people were on their feet. Most of the audience would probably only rise for the main cast members. As they approached their mark and Kit dipped in a low bow, he heard a singular, distinct, familiarly loud cheer. When he straightened, he and all his cast members were turned in that direction.

And then he saw her.

His biggest fan.

She was seated along the aisle and her hands were raised above her head. She was clapping so quickly her hands were a blur.

A large grin split his face. He felt he could kiss her-

Then she made to stand and Kit’s smile faded.

He watched her reach to the ground and straighten two crutches. She hastily slipped both of them at her elbows. Then she scrambled to her feet. Her face screwed with concentration as she found her balance. When she did, she looked up to the stage, a huge grin on her face and she cheering loudly when she could no longer clap while holding onto her crutches. 

He frowned deeply. _What the fuck happened to her?_ He let go of his fellow cast members’ hands. He had half a mind to march off stage this instant. He had to ask her what had happened and he had to have her standing in front of him, proving to him she was fine before he could rest easy. He took the first steps, prematurely, from the rest of his cast members.

Her smile faded and she shot him a stern look that stopped him in his tracks.

 _Later._ She mouthed and Kit felt his fingers curl into fists as he stepped back to clap for his other cast members. All the while, he watched her. Lola was standing beside her and took her crutches before carefully helping her settle back into her seat. Her face twisted into a grimace as she sat back into her seat but only for a moment before she grinned up at the stage and clapped, now contained but not any less enthusiastic.

Kit forced his gaze from her face and clapped for his cast mates but his mind was racing a mile a minute. He strained a smile onto his stiff face and raise his heavy hand to wave as the curtains closed. He was counting the seconds as he waited for the curtains to close completely. The moment it did, he ran backstage and into the corridor that led to the theatre.

He threw open the first side door he happened upon but he was instantly swept by the crowd leaving the theatre, “excuse me, excuse me,” Kit craned his neck over the crowd, trying to orientate himself to find her but to no avail. As usual, everyone towered over him, “excuse me,” he muttered as he made his way, against the crowd, to the front of the theatre. As he got closer to the front, the crowd thinned. When he came to her seat, he was dismayed to see that her seat was vacant.

He groaned audibly, trying to catch his breath as he glanced about for her. He reached into his pocket for his phone only to find the empty packet of the Haribo stuffed into his costume, for luck. In his fluster, Kit has forgotten that he was still in costume and his phone was in his dressing room.

_Did she not want to talk to me? Was she not feeling well and had to go home to rest?_

Kit was beginning to consider going to her flat to look for her when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hi,”

He turned to see Lola, “Where is she?” he glanced behind her to see no one. Lola rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips and Kit hurriedly scrambled for his manners, “Sorry, h-hi,”

Lola chuckled, “Ushers thought it safer for her to leave before the crowd and by an alternate exit. But Em guessed you might be looking for her here,” Lola teased and his face prickled and warmed.

Kit forced himself to take a deep breath to slow his panting, just enough to speak, “is she back at her flat?”

Lola gazed amusedly at him, “thought she would leave and take some much needed rest like the doctor ordered? You should see the way she fought tooth and nail just to be here for the premiere night even if she could very well watch it a week later when she’s better,” Lola muttered, annoyed. Kit was about to burst in his anxiety to see her when Lola decided to stop teasing him, “she’s in your dressing room. God forbid she leaves before telling you in person how ‘absolutely amazing’ she thought her Kitten was on stage,”

Kit felt his face prickle and warm, “dressing room?” he asked. Lola grinned, nodding and Kit turned to make his way over there. Kit struggled to keep his pace measured so he wasn’t running and leaving Lola behind. Then Kit blurted, “what happened to her?”

Lola shrugged, “she was being a bumbling idiot as usual but I’ll let her tell you,”

Kit pressed his lips shut then and focussed on not breaking into a reckless run the rest of the way.

Lola brought him to a separate dressing room from the one he got changed in. This one was more private and Kit silently thanked whoever arranged it. He opened the door. Emilia was sat on the couch in the corner. There was no one else in the room and Emilia looked up from her phone when he entered.

He gave her a quick, less than subtle, once over before he made his way over. She was beaming up at him from her seated position like he was the best thing in this world. Kit’s heart skipped a beat. _It’s nothing. It’s how all the fans look at their idols. And she has said she’s a fan._

When she reached for her crutches, presumably to get up, Kit got on his knees before her and reached to pull her into a hug as she reached for him. He could feel her gentle hand on the nape of his neck, her fingers smoothing down his curly hair. She pressed her soft warm cheek to his before she drew away and kissed him on his cheek. Once she did, Kit pulled her in again, cradling her head against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her temple, a kiss full of gratitude. _Thank you for coming, thank you for believing in me when you know, and only you will know, I needed it._

“Were you nervous, Kit Harington?” her tease was muffled and Kit pursed his lips against a smile before he allowed her to straighten from his arms. She gazed at him, deeply amused.

“No,” Kit replied simply but she narrowed her eyes in doubt. _Really. Because of the lucky Haribo you brought._ Kit would be damned if he said that aloud so instead, he said, “If you want an autograph, next time, wait outside the stage doors please,” his tone was even, formal.

Emilia mocked a scowl, “how cold can you be, Harington, letting a cripple wait out there,”

Kit could not contain his flinch as she mocked her own condition like that. His cruel façade fell and he sat on the couch beside her, asking, “what happened?” he glanced to her legs to see them looking fine.

Emilia sighed, “fractured my hips,”

His heart took a plunge and Kit’s concern only grew, “how?” he fisted his hands to stop them from reaching for hers.

A twinkle of amusement came into her eyes and she grinned, “a rough fuck,”

He thought she was probably joking but felt he couldn’t really know for sure. Kit’s face prickled with warmth and his chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Trying to ignore the unpleasant taste that formed on his tongue, Kit rolled his eyes, retorting, “seriously Clarke.” His voice dropped and Kit knew he could kill a man for this if it was true.

Emilia glanced between his eyes before she said, her voice suddenly smaller, “a treadmill accident. It’s not serious,” she assured.

Kit scoffed, “not serious? You’ve been reduced to having four legs now,” he gestured to her crutches.

“Hey! Don’t you go insulting Bill and Ben!” Emilia snapped, although Kit could plainly see the way the edges of her sweet lips curved up.

He could not contain his laugh, which he choked out, “you named them?!”

She looked smug as she replied, “I named you, _Kitten_. What of it?”

Despite his worry, Kit chuckled, shaking his head, “when will you get better?”

Emilia shrugged, “the doctor said probably 6 weeks on crutches and from there, recovery will be-“ Emilia hesitated but Kit could see the way her eye twitched, the only indication of any pain she may have, as she shifted almost uncomfortably, “smoother,”   

Kit glanced to her hip and how she was sitting, “should you be sitting so long and putting pressure on it like that? Do you have some support for it apart from your crutches?”

She swatted him however, to his surprise, “stop thinking of what’s under this dress,” she smirked before she chortled as if it was the funniest thing ever and Kit couldn’t help but crack a smile. Eventually, Emilia conceded with a grimace, “the doctor did say I shouldn’t sit too long…” she sighed and shifted. _And yet, she sat through the 3 hour play to watch you for 3 minutes-_ “help me get up will you?”

Kit instantly took her hand, supporting her arm as she stood, wobbly. Kit grabbed her crutches for her and helped her put them on. Then Kit asked, wondering aloud, “haven’t you started filming your new film?” he knew she has been working hard on rehearsals for that.

“Yeah, we just began but,” Emilia’s eyes dropped to her hip, “this happened and doctor’s orders that I rest for a while. So they’re moving around the filming schedule a bit,”

“And you should,” Kit agreed. At her raised brow, he elaborated, “rest. At home. In bed. You shouldn’t have come…” his voice softened, wishing he could convey his worry for her health and yet, not diminish the appreciation he had for her presence.

“And what? Miss your 3 minutes of fame?” Emilia giggled, “best 3 minutes of the entire play. Of any play I’ve watched in a while,” she teased, sounding to be sarcastic but Kit didn’t let that get to him for he could see in the soft look in her eyes and the way her smile became slightly more subdued that told him she meant some of what she said. Besides, she knew how small his part was in this play. And yet, she came to watch him, when no one else did.

“Thank you,” he smiled, “for coming, even if you shouldn’t,”

She rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips, “you don’t have to thank me. And those are for you,” she nodded her chin to the dressing table. Kit tore his eyes from her for the first time since he met her to notice that Lola was not in the room. Then his eyes fell on the large bouquet on the table. He approached and picked it up, “you were honestly god-awful for that 3 minutes but even god-awful actors deserve something. At least you got your arse on stage without a problem,” she said behind him but Kit was busy reading the card with the bouquet: _You were a true star tonight. So proud of you. xx your biggest fan._

Kit gazed at the loopy scribe a moment longer as he committed the words and how they looked to memory. He fought the tears that welled up in his eyes before he turned to face her. She was wearing a small warm smile and there was a soft look in her eyes. She looked proud of him and Kit’s heart swelled in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter because I don't want you guys to wait any longer!   
> So this chapter, Emilia struggles with the feelings she still has for Kit while Kit struggles with his relationship with Rose and you see a little of Kit's anxiety peeking in here. A little of a bridge/ exploratory chapter of their friendship. 
> 
> Anyway, with what I have planned, the Second Verse will wrap up in about one or two chapters before the third and last verse of This Love :) 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter!


	17. Sounds like Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ensemble effect helped make the experience less intimidating at first — but later, when Jon moved to the center of the “Thrones” narrative, anxieties that had been deferred leaped forward. “My darkest period was when the show seemed to become so much about Jon, when he died and came back,” Harington says. “I really didn’t like the focus of the whole show coming onto Jon —.” The spotlight was intense. “When you become the cliffhanger of a TV show, and a TV show probably at the height of its power, the focus on you is f—ing terrifying,” he says. “You get people shouting at you on the street, ‘Are you dead?’ At the same time you have to have this appearance. All of your neuroses — and I’m as neurotic as any actor — get heightened with that level of focus.”
> 
> Though all the attention reflected concern for the character Harington had built, it also made for something more than a professional challenge. “It wasn’t a very good time in my life,” he says. “I felt I had to feel that I was the most fortunate person in the world, when actually, I felt very vulnerable. I had a shaky time in my life around there — like I think a lot of people do in their 20s. That was a time when I started therapy, and started talking to people. I had felt very unsafe, and I wasn’t talking to anyone. I had to feel very grateful for what I have, but I felt incredibly concerned about whether I could even f—ing act.”
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Variety, March 2019)
> 
> Sealed with a kiss! Game of Thrones stars Kit Harington and Rose Leslie confirms romance rumours as they lock lips in LA. 
> 
> \- Dailymail, UK (January 2016)

_February 2016_

**Kit**

_“Kitten,” he felt a gentle hand on his arm. In a way, the touch was incredibly familiar. Kit could not say what about it was familiar; it could be the way he was touched, the feel of the skin on his, the warmth of the hand on his arm. Or it could be the voice. Whatever it was, it made his middle warm and fuzzy and compelled Kit to nuzzle deeper into the pillow and want to pry open his heavy eyelids at the same time. As he was nuzzling his cheek against the pillow, he heard a hushed giggle – or at least one giggle that was meant to be hushed but was anything but. He then heard a flutter in the wind before his face and he caught a whiff of citrus; body soap, “Kitten,”_

_It became too tempting not to open his eyes then. With great effort, he pried his eyes open to meet eyes that perfectly epitomised the sunrise, blue and gold; eyes he would recognise anywhere. A breath of deep relief left his heavy body and his battered soul and Kit sank, relaxed, against the mattress. A sort of peace filled him. He felt safe. He felt loved. He felt as if he could finally rest – he was finally where he has always wanted to be._

_“Good morning, Kitten,” his eyes darted down as her plump lips curve into a wide, and a little cheeky, grin. Just like that, he was completely enamoured of her and possessed with the idea of kissing her. It was when he thought of using his lips that he noticed they were curved into a smile not unlike hers. He had forgotten how it felt to smile so effortlessly he didn’t even realise he was smiling._

_With a grunt, he pulled himself from the bed and dove heavily towards her, a single aim on his mind. She shrieked, “Kitten!” She leaned back just out of the reach of his lips and his lips brushed hers but missed._

_He gazed dazedly at her lips, the very ones out of his reach, “Milly, I want to kiss you,” he whined, not in the least bit manly but he couldn’t care less. She knew that side of him and more._

_“No,” she giggled, shaking her head._

_He grinned before he reached for her. Squealing, she stepped back only to lose her balance and fall back onto her bottom, “Milly, c’mere,” he whimpered, meeting her eye._

_Kit saw the exact moment her resolve faltered and she got to her feet. Brushing herself off, she sat on the bed and Kit rolled over onto his back to give her space. The bed sank with her weight and she was strangely shy as she planted her hand at the spot beside his head and leaned over him. When she was within arm’s reach, Kit threw his arms around her neck and hugged her down to him. With a yelp of surprise from her, her arm folded and he felt her sweet weight fall onto him so completely that her body was pressed up against his. His heart skipped a beat._

_Then he let loose an exaggerated groan of ‘agony’. Feigning a wheeze, he managed tightly, “can’t breathe,”_

_She threw her head back, laughing heartily, “fuck off, Kitten,”_

_Staring at the way her happiness lit up her entire face, Kit huffed, “can’t… move…”_

_She only laughed harder and he relished the tremors of her joy he felt against his own body. Then she playfully punched his chest right on his sternum. Bone collided with bone and Kit was winded, more from surprise than pain. But it must have been audible for joy seeped from her face instantly and she cupped his cheek, “D-did that hurt? Oh no,” she murmured as she took in his twisted expression of pain._

_Her hand on his face felt like home and Kit decided to play it up, if it meant she would continue to hold his face like that and maybe if he got lucky, scuff his beard. She did just that as her other hand gently rubbed out the ‘bruise’ her punch caused._

_“Do you need ice to numb it?” she asked him, “Gods, can you even breathe with me crushing you like that?” She made to shift off of him and that was when Kit decided to end his theatrics._

_“I could never breathe with your lovely breasts pressed up against me like that,” Kit’s face smoothened into a sudden calm and Emilia paused before she mocked a scowl, stifling a laugh, “if you really feel bad, you could kiss it better,” he suggested playfully._

_She did laugh then. Kit smiled, smug. That is until she did just as he suggested. Leaning down, he felt her soft plump lips right in the middle of his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath as her lips melded with his skin. When she tenderly sucked, he swallowed audibly. His hands which were resting on her waist, slid down to her bottom and his fingers dug into her soft flesh. She hummed her approval as her lips wandered to his neck; nibbling, sucking and nipping. Swallowing a groan, he grinned before he playfully scratched her bottom._

_She giggled, her warm breath tickling his neck, “that feels strangely comforting,”_

_“Does it?” Kit teased, scratching her bottom gently. She laughed, burying her warm face into his neck, “leave it to you to prefer a bum scratch than a back scratch,”_

_Straining his neck, he glimpsed her pouting before her hands went straight to his groin. Her fingers lightly brushed him and he yelped in surprise, squirming. She laughed._

_“It tickles!” Kit protested._

_“Need help scratching them?” she grinned and Kit huffed, looking exasperatedly at her before he flipped them over and onto her back._

_“You’d do better fondling them,” Kit grinned right back. He knew her fingers were good at that while her mouth swallowed him over and over. As he had hoped, her cheeks flushed. Kit was just thinking how pretty she looked when he farted soundly._

_“Kitten!” she howled and pursed her lips, looking to be holding her breath._

_Kissing her ardently, Kit chuckled, “sorry,”_

_She took a hesitant whiff before she groaned at the smell, “go to the loo!” she complained, pushing him off her but she was unable to with his entire weight on her._

_“Just. A. Moment.” He kissed her lips with every word. When he was satisfied and made to finally withdraw to take his morning dump he cannot do without, she grabbed him back down to her and kissed him deeply._ My insatiable girl. _He chuckled but was silenced with her tongue. Grinning, he met her tongue with his. As she gasped, utterly pleased with him, he licked her extensively, getting her from her chin to the tip of her nose._

_“Kitten!” she shrieked and he collapsed into uncontrollable guffaws. She wiped her wet chin with the back of her hand but he darted and licked her there again before laughing, “I love you but you’re awful!”_

_Grinning to himself, pleased, he nuzzled her cheek with his own, “I love you too,” he whispered. She paused for a moment before he felt her cheeks bunch up in a smile against his. Then he licked her across her cheek, wetting her sweet skin thoroughly._

_She groaned, complaining, “KITTEN!”_

His eyes flew open. The first thing he noticed was the deep pounding in his head that threatened to cave his eyes in. He squeezed his eyes shut against it. Then he felt the huge wave of fatigue that blanketed his entire body. It seemed impossible for him to get up from this bed.

Then he felt bed shift and sink from a weight on the other side. His head still pounding, Kit forced himself to turn his head. Instantly, he winced as he saw blinding light that flooded in from a gap in the curtains. Squinting, he saw a naked back. The person shifted and whipped her brunette locks across her shoulder. Kit’s breath caught as he took in the dark brunette locks. Automatically, he reached out a hand to caress her back with her fingertips. But he paused when he spotted a tattoo across her bare shoulder.

His hand fell.

She turned and Kit found himself staring into stranger green eyes. A smile graced her too thin lips before she stood and turned. She pulled up her jeans and buttoned it, “thought you wouldn’t wake until later,” she commented, “you looked so happy asleep,” Kit did not reply as he closed his eyes and furrowed his brows against the headache, “good trip?” he could hear her go about the hotel room, picking up her clothing he had ridded her off the night before.

Kit nodded absently. _Best one in months. But not the trip; the dream. My trips were mostly nothing and that’s how I like it. Nowadays, nothing is always better than something._

“Who’s Milly?” she asked suddenly and Kit’s eyes flew open. She was wearing her bra. Kit did not even remember how her bare breasts looked, “she your girlfriend?”

Kit stared at her, “where did you hear that name?”

The lady rolled her eyes as she pulled on her sheer top, “kind of hard not to with you moaning it in my ear all night long and then mumbling it in your sleep,”

Kit did not need to ask her name to know he had gotten her name completely wrong all night. He felt he should apologise but his tongue was as heavy as lead in his mouth.

“You like brunettes?”

That question was easy enough to answer, “always have,” Kit grunted.

“Me too,” she grinned before she pulled on her shoes, “well, see you,” she winked at him before leaving the hotel. Kit stared up at the hotel room ceiling, wondering what happened last night. For a moment, he thought he was still in Brazil. It was hard to tell with his early mornings there being extremely similar to this one – waking up to a complete stranger, brunettes, every one of them.

It was always the same. His wandering eyes would find a brunette at the pub and like a moth to a flame, his feet would always bring him to her. He would buy her drinks and talk to her about some painfully boring topic for he wasn’t interested in talking. He couldn’t bloody well talk much without being absolutely terrified of giving something about the show away. So he became interested in drinking until the brunette looked familiar. It was then he would be happiest.

It was pitiful really. It wasn’t like he was lonely and single at all and that knowledge would always create a crater of guilt in his gut. So Kit drank even more to forget and he bought whatever substance he could get his hands on at the bar; anything that would take him away and erase the chaos in his constantly buzzing mind.

At first when he had read the script, he has been concerned no one would care about Jon being killed off seeing as everyone commented he was boring before. But as it turned out, Jon’s death was devastating for many and was a major cliffhanger for the next season. So Jon was finally getting all the attention from the fans of the show and by extension, Kit himself. But life has always been a whole irony for Kit.

He had a girlfriend that he do love, to some extent; he was on holiday and so definitely not working too hard at all; he got the proof he wanted so badly that he was doing well as Jon Snow; he has never been more recognisable and successful as an actor; and he never had to worry about money like he used to from time to time.

He was living the life he dreamt of when he was in drama school. He was the luckiest man in this world for he has everything he thought he wanted. And yet, as he lay here strangely comfortable with another night of missing memories and his eyes welling up with tears, Kit realised none of those things made him happy but only brought him anxiety.

He didn’t want to pick up his phone to see another concerned text from his girlfriend asking where he was, after he had disappeared all night. He didn’t want to wreck his brains coming up with something to do for his holiday just so he can stop thinking about all the things he has now that he didn’t want. He didn’t want to meet fans for them to heckle him for selfies he would be unable to smile in or for spoilers he was unable to give. Instead of basking in the love his fans showed him, Kit was ridiculously anxious and fearful when he bumped into one; be it afraid to give away something or to disappoint them with who he is.  

_Fucking ingrate you are._

Kit buried his face into his pillow, searching for the scent of lavender that works wonders on his nerves, but he only got the pungent smell of cigarettes. He turned to look up at the semi-dark ceiling, soaking in every inch of the throbbing headache. The pain was comforting to him some. It was in these moments that the pain in his body reflected that in his mind.

Then his phone vibrated on the night stand. _A message._ He glanced to it and then at the clock. It was almost the middle of the day. Kit sighed and reached for his phone.

It was Rose.

They had a bad row a day ago and here she was, texting him already.

Kit briefly read the text: _I’m sorry for shouting. Come home and we’ll talk properly._ Kit assumed she meant his apartment for Dan was out of the country and Kit has left her in his apartment with an extra set of keys after their row.

Rose was quick to anger but also quick to forgive and it was one of those things Kit liked about her. And she did not live by the principle that men should always text first. These two things were probably what kept this whole relationship standing. Rose came up with a 2 week rule; that they were not to go without seeing the other for anything more than 2 weeks – which meant one of them would be purchasing air-tickets to fly over to visit the other. If that was out of the picture, then at the very least they would facetime for hours. But with Rose, he found himself facetiming her every two to three days even if they were filming on opposite ends of the world.

But Kit did not mind. There was something comforting to him about always seeing a familiar face and having a familiar routine despite his hectic, unpredictable schedule and Kit found himself clinging onto that more than he should. She was his only constant in his life; that was very much present. And she loved him, so much that Kit felt afraid and anxious when he faced it – he always felt two steps behind her.

And now, Rose has taken a break from filming and has returned to London. Only for them to get into a massive row.

_“You awake?”_

_Kit heard her ask from behind him. He did not reply but resolved to stay still; ‘asleep’. A moment of silence passed before he felt the bed shift behind him. He unwittingly tensed when he felt her bare, perky breasts against his back. She hesitated but eventually, pressed herself up against him, her slim arm laced under his arm to hug his chest. He looked down to see her long slender fingers brush his muscled chest before exploring his chiselled abdomen. Rose has never said it but he could tell she liked them, a lot._

_A shuddering breath left her, tickling his shoulder as her fingers wandered lower._

_Kit stopped breathing entirely when she reached his crown of hair and brushed his soft length. She gently trailed a finger across the flaccid shaft. Kit’s shoulders were so tensed by now they were really starting to ache. He felt her soft slim leg brush his leg before she entangled her leg around his, “I want you…” she whispered, “so much,” she held his length in her hand, squeezing and stroking him, coaxing him._

_He reached back to stroke her thigh. They were thin and toned. He grasped her thigh firmly, his hand easily grasping a little more than halfway around. When they were together the first couple of times, Kit had been worried for her; how skinny she was but Rose had assured him she had always been a skinny girl and it wasn’t a matter of how much she ate. Now he simply got used to it and usually had sex with her in positions that didn’t mean he was pounding straight into her bone or causing her any discomfort because of how fragile she looked._

_He winced when she asked him, “don’t you want me?” she squeezed his still soft length meaningfully._

_Kit sighed then, “I do…”_

_A pause._

_He took a breath before he turned to her. Looking at her face always helped him. He searched her blue eyes to see her unconditional love and desire she has always had for him and a relieved smile graced his lips. His shoulders relaxed just slightly. Rose seemed to have felt it for she beamed at him. Before he knew it, she scrambled onto him, straddling him._

_He sucked in a breath as he felt her sopping softness on his, embarrassingly, flaccid length. Rose gazed down at him and placed her hands on his abdomen for balance as she rubbed herself from the base to the tip. Kit took in the sight of her small, perky breasts, peaked with large hardened nipples. He could see the bones of her ribs on her chest and on her sides. He followed her toned, flat abdomen to look down at the sheen she left on his member that was rapidly spreading across his hips. It was plain how much she wanted him._

_Guilt reared his ugly head that he couldn’t show her the amount of desire she was showing him, so he said, “You’re beautiful, Rose,” he sighed._ She has wanted me, for as long as I can remember. _Kit thought._

_She smiled before raising a brow at him meaningfully._

_Grinning at her, he yanked her down to him; careful to be gentle. Rose did not like it rough; she made it plain to him the morning after he went to her drunk and fucked her rather carelessly. He kissed her slowly before he turned them over so she was flat on her back. He straightened then, kneeling between her spread legs. He then reached over her for one of the condom he always kept on the nightstand._

_Rose caught his hand halfway, “no, I want you like this,” with her other hand, she reached down and brushed her fingertips over the head of his semi-hard member._

_Kit frowned, “why?” he blurted. They have never had sex without a condom beyond the very first time; when he was drunk, delirious and had neglected it. Kit had been filled with anxiety and regret the next morning and had watched Rose consume the plan B pill._

_“I want to have all of you,” Rose replied simply._

_He very nearly drew back from her then._

_Sensing his hesitation, Rose said, “Kit, I think we know each other well enough by now to go without a condom,” he did not reply but gazed at her, quietly panicking, “what are you worried about?” Rose sighed, “I’m not sick if that is what you-“_

_“No,” Kit replied instantly, “I know you’re not sick…”_

_“Then what is it? I’m on the pill too if you’re worried about pregnancy,”_

_Kit blinked, “what? Since when?” he frowned. He pulled his hand from hers to draw back from her._

_“I have been taking the pills long enough for you to finish inside me this time,” Rose replied, glancing distractedly to his crotch. She seemed oblivious to his discomfort._

_Kit then realised she had intended for this since before she came back. Kit knew it is her body and she can take the pill if she wanted. But a part of him couldn’t help but flinch at the fact that she didn’t even think to discuss this with him, “no,” Kit said with finality._

_“What?” Rose raised a brow, evidently surprised, “I thought you’d want to,”_

_“No,” Kit said, looking away from her and refusing to meet his eye now._

_“Why?”_

Why.

_Kit himself did not know why but Rose was waiting for an answer so Kit said with a slight shrug, “I feel safer with a condom than the pill,”_

_Rose held him with a contemplative gaze that he obstinately refused to meet. Eventually, she drew back so her legs were no longer spread beside him, “we have been dating for 4 years now, Kit,” Rose huffed, “I mean sure we had our ‘on-and-off’ moments but which couple doesn’t? Point is,” she took a breath, gazing at him with an intensity that told Kit she was gauging his reaction to her next statement, “I don’t think it is very far-fetched if I got pregnant now,” Kit did not miss the blatant hint that it was time to proceed to the next stage of the relationship._

_Objectively, Kit knew dating for 4 years was a long time for any couple but he did not feel ready for them to take the next step. Hell, with all the ‘short breaks’ they were taking, Kit has yet to let her properly meet his family._

_“Look,” Rose sighed and Kit instantly felt like the most tiring and frustrating person she has spoken to, “I know we have not had the most stable relationship for various reasons-“ she paused and Kit could hear the unsaid comment that he was the one who broke it off those times, “and you want to start a family late, like your parents. So I am not saying we try to have a kid now or completely stop using any protection. But I want to be closer to you. Don’t you want to be closer to me?” Rose asked him, “and don’t you think you would enjoy it more without the condom?”_

No. _Was his first thought. Kit knew from experience that it would cause him anxiety due to the pregnancy scare and he would be unable to perform. But Kit does not say that. Instead, he said, “Don’t know. Maybe,” a non-answer that he knew would get on Rose’s nerves so he scooted off the bed, intent to get a drink._

_“Christopher Catesby,” Rose snapped and Kit stilled but he could not look at her, “one more thing,” her voice grew strangely quieter, “can you explain this to me?”_

_He frowned, confused but when he turned; the colour drained from his face. Rose was showing her phone to him with a photo on it._

_Kit remembered that photoshoot like it happened yesterday. He remembered how Emilia looked that day; apprehensive, then relaxed, then fiercely confident. Regardless, she was immensely attractive. And Kit remembered the kiss in this photo; and all their kisses, every single one was burnt into the back of his mind and especially in his dreams. The photo was never published in the actual rolling stone magazine and Kit had no idea this photo existed on the internet._

_Until now._

_“So?” Rose’s shaky question cut through his thoughts._

_“Where did you find this-“_

_“Are you cheating on me, Kit? With-“ Rose’s face contorted with pain and tears welled up in her eyes._

_Kit felt his chest begin to ache but he could not take those steps to her, “no,” Rose sniffed but was evidently listening, “this was 4 years ago, Rose,” Kit explained but for some reason, felt his explanation fell flat, “the rolling stone shoot,” Rose paused, probably trying to recall it, “the photographer asked if we would kiss…” he said weakly, not sure why he felt a strong need to explain anyway._

_Rose didn’t speak and all the while, his fear grew. Shifting, he picked up his joggers and yanked it on. Drawing strength from his fear, Kit took 2 steps to her and sat on the bed beside her. He contemplated reaching for her hand but before he could, she spoke, “you could’ve said no. This is a photoshoot, not filming,”_

_“Rose, we weren’t together yet at that time…” Kit’s voice trailed off._

_“No, we weren’t,” Rose muttered tightly but her admittance did not dissipate the tension and Kit was puzzled. Then her gaze dropped to the photo and she continued then, “it looks like quite a kiss,” Rose feigned an air of nonchalance, “not a staged one between_ friends _,”_

_“Rose… it’s complicated-“_

_“Don’t give me that bullshit, Kit,” Kit was taken aback with the venom in her voice, “enough is enough. I’m not blind and whatever those two people are in this photo, they aren’t only friends,”_

_“Rose-“ Kit sighed, tugging his hair back from his face._

_“Did you sleep with her?!” Rose demanded._

_“Why is the past so important?” Kit began to feel defensive against her tone and frustrated with the way she was questioning him._

_“Answer me!” Rose snapped and Kit blinked. She has never raised her voice to him, “tell me what the two of you were!”_

_Something snapped in him, “we were together!” Kit stood from the bed, glaring at her, “we loved each other and we were together,” he seethed, tears in his eyes, “she’s the one from the beginning. The one I was ‘stuck at the hip with’ during filming; the one who left me and left me broken; the one I drunk myself under the table every night in Iceland over; the one I was waiting for every night at the bar! Is that what you wanted to hear?”_

_Rose’s first sobs broke through his cloud of anger, “you knew I thought there was nothing, apart from a silly infatuation on your part; something she didn’t reciprocate. You knew! And you let me act the fool!” Rose was bordering on hysterical at this point and fighting back tears, Kit rolled his eyes, turning from her as he pressed the knuckles of his fists into his eyes but Rose wasn’t done, “you didn’t tell me-“_

_“Because I knew you’d act like this!” Kit roared._

_Rose sobbed harder, “We are supposed to be honest with each other but you always have this- this wall around you and you don’t let me in! You won’t even be with me without a fucking condom in between us because you’re afraid I’ll get pregnant…We’ve been together for four fucking years. You’re my boyfriend, Kit! Do you realise that? The least you can do is act like one!”_

_“I did,” Kit glared, “I acted like your boyfriend when you insisted for us to arrive at LA together, when you called the paps at the airport, when you called the paps while we shopped in the Grove, when you asked me for a kiss and I kissed you in front of the fucking paparazzi!”_

_“People has been asking me for months!” Rose snapped, “my family, my friends! And **your** bloody fans! Both our agents told us it will help both of us and our career to start stepping into the public eye with this, but you didn’t care about that. You only cared about what you wanted, which is to hide, as always; hide yourself, hide us. Are you that ashamed of being with me? Was it because of her, Kit? Were you hiding it to protect her-” _

_“You’re fucking ridiculous!” Kit threw his hands up. Rubbing away angry tears, he changed into his jeans and pulled on a jacket over his shirt. Then he pulled on his boots and left the apartment._

* * *

Kit stared at the message: **I’m sorry for shouting. Come home and we’ll talk properly.**

A beat.

Fighting the fatigue he felt that Kit knew had only little to do with the hangover, he opened the message and replied: **Ok**

As he thought, Rose was waiting for him in his apartment on the sofa when he entered. She looked fresh, showered, unlike him. After he shut the door behind him, Kit stood at the door, unsure how this was going to go. Eventually, Rose smiled a, albeit, weak smile at him and patted the empty space on the sofa beside her. Hesitating for just a beat, Kit went and sat down beside her.

Up close, Rose’s eyes were swollen, from crying presumably.

“I’m sorry,” Kit rasped out of his parched throat.

Rose frowned and stood from the sofa. Kit watched her leave, puzzled. She returned with a glass of water, “you’ve been smoking, a lot,” it wasn’t a question and Kit took the glass of water with a quiet mutter of thanks, “and drinking,”

Kit supposed she could smell it on him; he could smell it on himself when he pulled on his old clothes at the hotel.

She watched him drain the glass quietly. When he was done, she folded her hands on her lap, looking exactly like the proper lady she was raised to be. Kit recognised it to be a nervous habit of hers. From the knowledge that she too was nervous, Kit found the comfort he sorely needed at this point, “if you want to keep this…” she gestured between them, “private. I respect that.”

Kit let out a breath he didn’t realise he has been holding as he said quietly, “I don’t want us to be a walking show, Rose. I want our relationship to be a real relationship; not one in front of the press. At least not yet; at least until we get everything sorted between us,” he forced himself to meet her eyes.

There it was. His pass to her for her to talk about what he knew she really wanted to talk about.

Rose nodded mutely and she started, “the past… wasn’t important. Until you hid it from me, Kit,”

“I didn’t mean to,” Kit replied, “I didn’t think it was important,”  

“I know… I never asked anyway. I assumed,” Rose chuckled bitterly. She hesitated on her next question and Kit braced himself for it, “why aren’t you two still together?”

Kit tensed, feel an ache for what he had long thought he was completely numb to. Swallowing, he gazed at the empty glass, “distance for work. She didn’t have faith it would work out and-“ he licked his lips before continuing, unable to stop the tremor in his voice, “she decided we remain friends,”

“So… when I noticed that you fancied her. You haven’t actually gotten over the break-up,”

Kit remained silent, knowing Rose will take that as a yes anyway.

Rose nodded knowingly, “so that’s the past,” Rose swallowed, “but we never properly talked about New York with her aneurysm and Spain,” Rose said quietly, “both times, you left… everything to go to her,” _I left you, specifically; both time._ Kit realised. Rose’s voice wavered and Kit knew saying that aloud has hurt her but Rose soldiered on, steadying her voice, “In New York, you told me you felt something was wrong and were worried because she’s your best friend. For Spain, you told me you heard of an accident during filming and decided to check on her because she wasn’t responding to your calls. You told me you were concerned; that you cared for her, like a friend,” Kit couldn’t meet her eye but he heard Rose taking a breath, “is that true? Do you care for her like a friend or do you love her like a lover?”

His stomach twisted nauseatingly, threatening to have him throw up the water he just consumed and he found it hard to breathe.

“Do you love her? Still?” Kit glanced to see Rose’s already swollen eyes well up with tears but he couldn’t hold her piercing gaze, “Kit…” her hand covered his icy fingers, begging him to reply her. His throat constricted and his vision flashed in and out of darkness, “Kit-“ He felt like he was drowning and Rose watched, completely oblivious.

“Emilia… “ he tore her name from his strangled throat and it is like the fog before his eyes lifted, “will always be important to me, Rose,” he told her thickly and Rose swallowed a sob, “I’m sorry that’s not what you want to hear but I will always care for her.”

“Even if she broke you and left you like that; broken? Even if she is without a care for you?” Rose blinked away her tears and asked.

His heart was pounding erratically in his chest and with each beat it answers: _Yes. Even if it kills me, I will be there for her. It’s not like I can help it; it doesn’t feel like a choice anymore._

“She knows me, Rose, like no one else ever does. She gets me. From the first moment I saw her; it’s like we have this- bond-” Kit felt the words tug at, lifting, his heavy heart.

“Yes or no,” Rose interrupted stiffly, “even if she were to break you, you’ll take care of her?”

Kit felt his chest ache for Rose when he saw her jaw stiffen as her reddened eyes studied him, “you know the answer to that,” his entire body sagged with the admission he provided to her; and to himself, “she has already broken me,” _and yet, here I am._

Rose’s face fell into a calm, so serene it worried Kit. She closed her eyes momentarily, her face peaceful but Kit could see in the stiff posture that she was anything but. She stood then and said quietly, “it sounds like love to me,”

Without taking another look at him, she walked past him and Kit panicked. He wanted to scream for her to stop, to stay with him. He wanted to cling onto her hand. Sinking to his knees didn’t even seem a far-fetched idea but Kit merely sat, tears stinging his eyes as he resigned to be left behind, again. _Begging wouldn’t work; I’ve tried it once before._

“Kit, can I have one more answer from you? An honest one,” Rose muttered. Kit nodded, staring down at his vacant, frozen hands, “do you love me? Have you ever loved me?”

_I don’t know. I don’t know myself. I don’t know anything anymore._

But Rose was waiting so Kit said the only truth he knew, “you are my girlfriend,”

He did not turn to look at her, he didn’t dare to. Kit did not think he could stand seeing another person leave him completely alone again. But he could hear the door open and close. Then silence.

Apart from his increasingly shallower breaths. Then before Kit knew it, his heart was pounding out of control and he was gasping for air as if he was being strangled. When he reached for his throat, as if that would make it easier to breathe, his hands were trembling terribly. He felt lightheaded then and Kit lay forward onto the now vacant sofa. On it, he curled up and hugged himself, trying fruitlessly to warm his frozen body.

_Help me. Rose… Dan…_

Kit did not know how long he lay on the sofa but he watched the shadow of his balcony stretch and entirely disappear and then watch it emerge again before slowly shortening and disappearing. As the shadows in his flat lengthened and faded, threatening darkness, Kit found himself beginning to gasp for breath again. As he watched the shadows begin to fade, telling of the light’s imminent departure, he panicked-

The shrill ringing of his phone pierced through the darkness.

He didn’t know how he found the strength to reach for his phone but he did.

_Milly._

Shakily, he punched the button to pick up the call and pressed it to his ear.

“Kitten?” the first successful breath of oxygen he took was like sweet honey to his constricted lungs, “Kitten, you there?” his second breath came easier than the first and his heart slowed as did his breathing. Warmth flooded into his limbs and his fingers and toes as he heard her huff in amusement, “Kitten, stop fooling around!”

“Yes?” he croaked out.

“Oh…” she paused, “sorry, did I wake you?” she giggled. He shook his head, staring vacantly ahead with eyes filled with unshed tears, “well, whatever,” she snorted and he felt a smile wrestle its way onto his face at the sound of Emilia Clarke barging her way into his life, as always, “hey, listen! You want to come hang out? Like a nights out,” his eyes darted up, his heavy eyelids no longer heavy as he considered the prospect of seeing her, “I have gathered a few of my mates,” he sank back into the sofa, shrinking at the thought of meeting some new faces, “so, what do you say?”

He agonised over what he should do for a moment, closing his eyes.

“Aw come on Kitten, don’t be shy!” Emilia teased. Kit smiled. With his eyes closed like that, he could see her grinning while nudging him, if she were here, “it’ll be fun!”

 _I want to. I really want to._ He curled up with his knees against his chest, holding the phone to his ear in a vice-like grip. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to agree to her invitation.

“Kitten?” her chirpy voice grew solemn and Kit wanted to kick himself, “you okay?”

Forcing a grin onto his face as if she could see, he said, “yeah, I’m fine,” her lack of reply was telling of how much she believed him, if at all, “look, I would love to but I-um- I’m already meeting some of my mates for drinks tonight… so…”

“Oh…” her voice trailed off, “no matter. Next time then,”

“Yeah,” Kit whispered, listening intently. He could almost hear the breaths she drew and his breathing slowly fell in time with hers. Kit drew strange comfort in knowing that in this moment, he was drawing every breath with her. They fell into comfortable silence and for the first time in months, Kit felt at peace; with himself, with how things in his life were, with everything.

“It is nice chatting with you, Kitten,” she said quietly.

“Yep,” he smiled, replying her equally quietly, “it is,”

She took a deep breath and Kit steeled himself to hang up soon, “anyway, don’t be a stranger, Kitten,” she said, sounding worried.

“I won’t,” he replied, the only thing he could say in reply when she sounded this worried. 

“I hope you have a good nights out,” Emilia said. A pause, “Bye,”

“Bye, Milly,”

Another pause of complete silence, even of the sound of her breathing, and Kit knew why. He had blurted her old nickname. He doesn’t remember the last time he called her that out loud to her.

“Ok,” she chuckled, almost nervously, “bye,” she hung up.

Kit clung onto the phone even after the line went dead. It was a long time later did Kit lower the phone, glancing to the dark screen. His eyelids got heavier and Kit drifted off on the sound of her voice.

“Kit. Mate, wake up,”

Kit jolted awake, blinking to clear his vision to see Dan bent over him.

“You look like shit,” Dan frowned.

Kit glanced around to see that the flat was dark before he allowed his head to drop heavily onto the sofa.

“You okay mate? Where’s Rose?” Dan looked towards the bedroom, as if expecting Rose to emerge. Kit did not reply and Dan raised a brow, “had a row?”

Kit nodded stiffly but closed his eyes. Dan sighed, shaking his head. Kit heard receding footsteps before he opened his eyes. Dan has left to his room. Kit stared blankly forward before he felt something poking him in the chest. He glanced down to see it was his phone and was reminded of the conversation he had before he had fallen asleep; a fitful one but sleep nevertheless.

Kit surprised himself when he found the strength to reach for his phone and unlock it to look at the time: **11.43pm.**

It was late.

His finger found her name on the chat and he opened it. He stared at the blinking text cursor, realising he did not know what to say. He wanted to ask her if she was doing alright but chuckled bitterly when he realised how ridiculous it would sound. Instead, he stared at her name, wishing she would come online at least.

But she doesn’t.

The next time he glanced at the clock, he saw that it was past midnight.

With one more glance at her name to see that she remained stubbornly offline, Kit pulled himself from the sofa to sit up. He instantly felt faint and he took a moment to collect himself. When he was sure he would not fall, Kit stood from the couch, grabbed a random coat from behind the door and was out the door.

“Where are you going?” he heard Dan shout from his room but didn’t want to spend more time chatting.

* * *

 

Her neighbourhood was dark and quiet. He paid the driver and thanked him as he alighted. He walked up to her door and knocked. But as he expected from the dark windows, no one came to the door.

_She’s fine. She’s no stranger to nights out._

He told himself as he knocked once more. He considered simply calling her but decided against it at the thought of what he would say to her if she picked up. ‘Where are you now’ did not sound like something a mate would ask another. So instead, Kit walked down the street where he would have a clear view of her house but not too near so she would see him if she returned safely. He waited for a while before he started shaking from the cold. _London in February and only Kitten is stupid enough to come out in nothing but a parka._ Kit could hear Emilia chiding him.

 _Only_ your _Kitten._ He would retort.

Trying to rub his own hands warm, he sat down on the curb and hugged his knees. He planted his chin on his folded arms. As he watched the dark street, praying for a sign of her, something Rose said came back to him.

_Sounds like love to me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was split into two because of how monstrously long it got (and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer)! So, about two more chapters to go before we embark on the next verse! 
> 
> Leave me a comment to let me know what do you think of this chapter :)


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